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hier--soir · 11 months

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bite the bullet

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two idiots finally bite the bullet and admit how they feel. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, age gap [20 years], angst, miscommunication, a meddling Tommy Miller, soft sleepy sex, oral [f], unprotected piv, masturbation [f], rimming, sixty-nine, both of them are assholes for a minute, resolved emotional tension. word count: 9.4k [i got carried away sorry!] series masterlist | masterlist this is part four of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, three.

Everything was wet.

Your feet squelched against the ground as you moved, little flicks of water splashing up against your shins with every step. Inside waterlogged shoes your socks clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Tommy was crouched underneath your sink, inspecting the u-bend of the pipe there, his lower half damp from the water that covered the floor of your kitchen.

“It’s definitely comin’ from in here,” his muffled voice came, and you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face in exasperation. “I can stop it, but it’s gonna take some time for the place to dry out. I’d say you’d better clear out for a few days, leave a few windows open.”

You’d had a nice day. A lovely day, even. And you’d been looking forward to curling up with a whiskey and a good book before bed. But upon returning home from the greenhouse, you’d been horrified to find the entrance of your home covered in a thin layer of water. Splashing down the hall, you’d discovered that the entire place was wet; a shiny film of liquid coating anything that touched the ground. The wooden floorboards were soaked to the bone with cold water. A fucking flood. Thankfully Tommy was right, and you trusted that the August humidity would naturally dry it out with enough time.

“I can’t just stay here? I didn’t think it was too bad,” you lied. “Could lay down some towels.”

Tommy laughed under the sink. “You know you’ll get sick if you’re sleeping around all this water – towels or no towels.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, gazing at the floor glumly. “Okay, yeah, I suppose I’ll uh… I’ll get some stuff together.”

“Joel would take you,” his said, and you snapped back to reality, staring at his back while he worked. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. When you didn’t respond, his head reappeared, and he looked at you curiously, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. “You and Joel are pals, right? Pals help each other out.”

Pals, you thought cynically. That’s one word for it.

Two weeks had slowly passed since the Peterson incident, and you’d only seen Tommy’s older brother a handful of times. There was still a tense energy between the two of you, so you’d been keeping your distance a little, allowing things to cool off. Bumping into each other here and there, dinner on the same table at the hall… but no alone time. No real time that would leave you two open to actually talking about it. That didn’t mean it didn’t play on your mind, though. Oh boy did it. In fact, most days you’d catch yourself gazing into a pot plant, thinking about that night. The way he’d taken you, made you tell him the details about Peterson, the way he’d showed you he fucking owned you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the way it had made you feel, and so you avoided it, even though your chest ached with the Joel-sized hole his absence had left in it. At least you weren’t so stubborn that you couldn’t admit to yourself how much you missed him.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Tommy gave a polite shrug, smirking at you. Testing you. A huff escaped your lips, and you broke eye contact, stretching out your shoulder. “Yeah, alright, I’ll ask him,” you agreed begrudgingly, brain whirring trying to come up with excuses. “It’s late though, and he might not want me there.”

“It’s not that late, but sure,” he chuckled knowingly, going back to work on the pipe. “When hell freezes over and Joel says no to you, you let me know.”

An hour later, you were on your best friend’s porch, a bag slung over your arm, hesitating with your knuckle raised in the air. Taking a deep breath and running through what you were going to say, you finally willed yourself to rap your fist twice against the wood.

After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Joel, in a soft wrinkled t-shirt.

An easy, involuntary smile spread across your face upon seeing him. His beard was a little longer than he usually kept it, greys sparkling through the dark hair that framed his mouth so handsomely. He had clearly been settling down for the night, and he looked oh so cosy dressed in his sleep clothes.

“Hey man,” you offered up a sheepish smile.

He looked appropriately surprised to see you, considering you certainly hadn’t been knocking on his door at any point in the past fortnight. One of his eyebrows hitched upward, and he eyed the bag over your shoulder warily. “You skippin’ town or something? Who’d you piss off this time?”

You rolled your eyes and readjusted the duffel. “You gonna let me inside? This thing’s kind of heavy.”

He stepped back into the entryway with a grunt, allowing you to breeze past him and dump the bag onto the ground with a low thud. “Pipe under my sink is busted. Flooded the whole place today – Tommy said I should clear out for a day or two.”

He hummed, narrowed eyes raking over your face. “Oh yeah? So where you gonna go?” he teased, and relief rushed through your veins like warm water as you recognised the smirk threatening to take over his face.

You gave him a small laugh and sighed, holding your arms out in mock surrender. “Come on, Miller,” you said. “Let me crash here – I’ll owe you one.”

“Owe me one, huh?” his eyes shone with mischief. “Well I like the sound of that.” An odd, twisting sensation rippled through your stomach and you sucked your lips into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Sure,” you retorted. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” When the words left your lips you both stilled, staring at each other warily.

He hummed, eyes darkening a fraction. “You’re playin’ with fire,” is all he said, before bending down to pick the bag up off the ground and ushering you towards the stairs.

You wondered off ahead of him, and when you reached the landing you veered right, pushing open the door to the spare room. He didn’t follow you in immediately, instead pausing in the doorway with a frown plastered across his face. You hadn’t thought about where you’d be sleeping until the second you reached the top of the stairs, but you knew this was the right decision. Sharing a bed with Joel for a few days? Probably not a good idea. Unless of course, that was going to be how you repaid your debt…Thankfully, or unfortunately, he didn’t push it, dropping the bag gently in the corner of the room.

“Hope Ellie won’t be bothered I’m here for a few days,” you thought aloud. The tone noticeably shifted, and you almost at how Joel seemed to deflate.

He leant an arm against the doorframe and sighed. “She ain’t spendin’ much time in the house these days,” he admitted quietly. “Stays in the bungalow or goes out. I doubt you’ll even see her.”

You hesitated for a second before asking, “Have you two spoken much lately?”

He scratched his chin for a moment. “You know the kid,” he shrugged. “She’s stubborn. M’tryin’ not to push it.”

“It’ll be okay, Joel,” you offered softly. “She’ll come around.”

He assessed you silently, eyes flitting down your body before resting on your face once again, and then he stepped back into the hall. Coughing awkwardly, he raised a hand in a sort of farewell, and said, “Well, uh, you know where everything is. I’m gonna… I was gonna head to bed, I guess.”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching as he turned to head toward his room.

“Hey, Joel, wait,” you called, and he turned, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite place. I miss you, you wanted to say. I miss you, and I’m sorry things are off between us, and I wish we could forget it all and go back to normal, and I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. “Thank you,” you said instead, voice soft. “I really appreciate this.”

The look in his eyes dimmed a little but he offered up a smile. He nodded once, said, “Glad to have you here,” and then closed his bedroom door, and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After showering and unpacking the few things you brought along, you curled up in the foreign bed. The mattress was soft enough though, and the sheets smelled like the soap Joel used. Your body ached from a long day of work, muscles tense and wired from hauling heavy pots around under the sun. Soon enough, you began to relax enough to drift off to sleep. Only a few hours into the night though, your dreams were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps padding across the landing. A beam of soft yellow light was shone into the room, painting the inside of your eyelids orange. Cracking an eye open, you saw that the door was ajar, and a tall figure was peering in.

“Joel?” you asked groggily, dragging a knuckle over your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” his deep voice came, but he made no move to enter the room. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” he said softly, and your heart clenched.

Pulling the blankets open on the empty side of the bed, you didn’t even think before you said, “Get in.”

Your head fell heavily into the pillows, and sleep tried to pull you back under as you listened to Joel shuffle across the room and slide into the bed beside you. For a moment, he just laid there, a sizeable gap between you on the mattress. And then his warm, firm body was pressing up against your back, his large palm sliding over your hip to rest on your stomach and guide you back against his chest. His scent overwhelmed you, hints of mint and soap and pine tickling your nose, and fuck you had missed him. it was so familiar, and yet your body tingled as if it was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on you. Through the haze that settled over your sleep addled brain, you could feel him, stiff against your thigh.

“Jesus,” you teased drowsily, throwing caution to the wind by rubbing yourself back against him. “Were you having a dream about me or something?”

His nose traced a long down the back of your neck and you fought off a shiver. “Always dream about you.” If you weren’t so tired, that probably would’ve garnered a bigger reaction from you. But as it were, you just brought a hand down to rest over his on your stomach and gripped his fingers softly. “Was thinkin’ bout you being so close, yet still so far. Just down the hall, sleepin’ in my sheets…”

You hummed, warmth flooding your abdomen as he nudged his hips forward, rutting himself against you. His hand drifted out from under yours to slide up underneath your shirt, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your breast.

“Joel,” you murmured, eyelids heavy.

He hummed eagerly, planting a soft kiss underneath your ear.

“I‘m so tired,” you said regretfully. “It’s been a long day – can hardly keep m’eyes open.”

“Let me help you fall asleep,” is all he said, hand now freely roaming over your chest. His thumb lightly brushed the firm peak of your nipple and your whole body shuddered. “Just relax.”

You were vaguely aware of him pulling the covers off you and moving down the bed, dragging soft kisses down your stomach, before dragging your underwear down your legs. Slumping into the soft bed, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

Gentle, reverent kisses were pressed over your hip bones as he settled between your legs, pulling one of your thighs up to rest over his shoulder. His long fingers rubbed over the muscles in your leg, pressing down gently when he found knots, pulling deep sighs of contentment out of you.

“That feels nice,” you whispered into the darkness, and you could’ve sworn you felt him grin against your hip.

When his nose dragged through the dark hair on your mound you twitched slightly, body waking up a little at the sensation. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and you relaxed again, humming lowly as his pressed a kiss against the inner most point of your thigh.

It felt like hours passed with him between your legs. At first you allowed yourself to slip in and out of near sleep, eyes closed as lax puffs of air escaped your mouth while his tongue dipped gently between your folds, giving you soft lazy strokes that warmed your insides. When the first bit of slick began to seep out of you, he groaned gratefully, licking and sucking at your entrance, exulting in your taste.

It felt like you were dreaming. Laying pliant on the bed, you were fully at his mercy, allowing him to move your legs anyway he wanted to give himself better access. You could vaguely hear him murmuring against your skin, but couldn’t make out the words over your own sighs, smiling sleepily as his tongue lapped against you. He worked slowly, and you realised that it was as much for his enjoyment as it was for your own. You knew by that point how much Joel enjoyed going down on you. He had told you as much on multiple occasions; how he’d love to spend hours with his face trapped between your thighs. But he’d never had the chance, or the patience, to really do it.

The sounds of his enjoyment vibrated against your core, echoing through the room around you. The way he fucking moaned into your cunt never failed to drive you crazy, but in that moment you just smiled at the sound, enjoying how peaceful it was, how sweet.

Every now and then you’d lazily blink your eyes open and look down, expecting that at any moment he’d pull away, be over it. But he never did. Every time you looked his eyes were closed, hands gripping your thighs softly, thumbs stroking rhythmically against your skin as content breaths rushed out of his nose, and you’d close your eyes again, the dark image of him scorched into the inside of your eyelids, never to be forgotten.

You started to feel more awake when he finally gave his undivided attention to the achingly sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your core. Moving painfully slow, he glided his firm tongue across your clit, switching it up between swiping back and forth across it and then circling it.

“Oh,” you murmured lowly, voice hoarse from lack of use, but you couldn’t help the soft exclamation as your hips shifted upwards, suddenly searching for more. He didn’t change a thing, pace never increasing or slowing down, and it was perfect.

Your orgasm washed over you in gentle waves. Joel’s tongue swirled slow, gentle circles around your clit and your thighs tensed around his head, fingers reaching down to softly rake through his curls. He hummed happily, tongue lathing against you, enjoying every second of your release. Only pausing once your body stopped twitching and the muscles in your thighs relaxed against him, before kissing way up your stomach, your neck, under he was holding himself over you.

Eyes still closed, your hands drifted to the back of his neck and you pulled him down, his weight crushing against you but you didn’t care. Yours lips met tentatively, and for a moment that was all it was. A soft, gentle kiss. And then you felt him, straining against his briefs, pressed between your thighs, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. It was messy and slow, tongues tangling together, teeth knocking awkwardly, and you found yourself smiling into his mouth. It should have unnerved you. Should’ve been enough to make you stop, turn your head away and make him fuck you rough so you would forget how intensely intimate the moment felt. But you didn’t.

“You should sleep,” he murmured against your lips, pulling his hips back a little so his erection wasn’t so obvious.

“You should come inside me,” you whispered back, reaching down to grip the band of his underwear and tug them down over his hips. He groaned and kissed you again before reaching down to free himself from the confines of his underwear.

No other words were exchanged as he adjusted himself, and then he was pressing into you, his needy moans spilling out against your neck while your hand snuck underneath his shirt, fingernails gliding down his back as he filled you completely.

“God, I missed you,” he choked out, voice cracking. You whimpered softly. “You’re so wet.”

“Made me feel so good, Joel,” you preened, kissing the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he pulled his face out of your neck to look at you, and you nodded, staring at him through bleary eyes. Joel kissed you again. A long, yearning kiss that made your heart throb, and it didn’t take long until he was falling apart on top of you, shaking against your arms that wrapped around him, held him against your chest. You whispered praises in his ear as he came, hips grinding into yours, pushing himself so deep inside that it had you gasping into his mouth. It was so unlike any other time you’d ever slept with him, and alarm bells rang somewhere far in the deep recess of your brain, but you ignored them. You’d missed each other, and you’d both earned a little softness after the time apart. And so the two of you fell asleep like that; tangled in each other’s arms, with him still inside you.

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. The light was harsh, and you cursed yourself for going to sleep without drawing the curtains. You went to sit up in the bed but stopped suddenly, realising how hot you were. With a soft start, you glanced down and understanding jolted through you like a flash of lightning. Joel’s house, you remembered; you were at Joel’s house. But what you hadn’t expected to find was Joel still in the bed, arms coiled around you like wire while he snored quietly in your ear. For as many times the two of you had slept together, neither of you had ever slept over. It was an unspoken rule, and one that had never been difficult to follow. But he’d broken it… or you’d both broken it, maybe. Keeping your body as still as possible, you found yourself breathing deeply, trying to maintain the allusion of still being asleep to avoid rousing him from his slumber. Frustratingly, your heart pounded in your chest, brain zeroing in on every part of your body that touched his.

His soft lips brushed the back of your neck, heavy breaths puffing against your skin. A solid knee was wedged between your legs, one hand lazily gripping your breast. The insides of your thighs were sticky where his come had leaked out of you overnight, and your eyes widened at the sensation.

What surprised you the most wasn’t that you didn’t hate waking up with him beside you. No, what surprised you most was that you did like it. In fact, you found yourself longing to relax into his arms and go back to sleep. But common sense reared its head, and you slowly slipped out of his grasp, moving slowly so as not to wake him while you dragged yourself out of the bed. Staring down at Joel, a pang of fondness rush through your chest. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead, plump lips pushed out into a pout as he breathed deeply, hand resting on the empty bed where you had just laid. His breathing hitched momentarily, and you froze, realising how odd it would be for him to wake up and catch you standing there naked, staring. Trying not to give it another thought, you quietly collected some clothes from your bag, and slipped out of the room to start your day.

Hours passed in the greenhouse. You distracted yourself with cucumber seeds and tomato plants, pushing Joel out of your mind as you worked under the sweltering sun. Underneath the glass roof of the nursery, the heat multiplied, and by the time your shift was over you were covered in sweat, shirt ticking uncomfortably tight to your back. You stopped by at the community hall for dinner and ate alone, your brain a whirlwind of thoughts of Joel, Joel, Joel. You couldn’t shake the feeling that had lingered in your bones all day; the aching desire to have stayed in bed with him, to have relaxed into his arms and cuddled him for the rest of the morning. Your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

“Christ,” you mumbled aloud through a mouthful of food, rolling your eyes at yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy, but the worst part was understanding that this must’ve been how he’d been feeling for weeks already.

I’ve never asked you for anything. Not for anything more than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.

That’s what he’d said, two weeks ago, the day he found out about Peterson. The words played in your head like a mantra. Words that you had firmly avoided bringing up, ones you’d never pushed for an explanation about. You’d chosen to sweep them under the rug, and yet, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t fucking forget them.

By the time you returned to his house you discovered him sitting on the couch downstairs, engrossed in a book. It was the picture of domesticity. The sweet scent of vanilla floated through the air towards you, and you noted the small candle burning on the table beside him.

Staying in Joel’s home, even for just one night, you’d noticed so much more about it than ever before. There was something interesting to look at everywhere you turned, and sweet-scented candles were just the tip of the iceberg. He left random objects littered across countertops, like little treasures for you to stop and inspect during your travels throughout the house. Wood that he’d whittled into interesting shapes, books that he’d read the first few pages of and then abandoned, countless mugs in odd places with dark brown coffee stains at the bottom of them. It was homey, and warm, and subconsciously you found yourself enjoying the insight into his most private space – into the things he did when he was truly alone.

Joel hadn’t noticed you come in, so you seized the opportunity to watch him from the doorway for a moment. He was wearing his comfortable clothes again, and a thin set of reading glasses were perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. A quick flash of heat tore through your stomach. You’d never seen him wear those before, and it had you stumped. The glasses, paired with the salt and pepper through his beard and hair, reminded you of his age. Twenty years older than you, and still the most handsome man you knew.

You finally broke the silence, announcing yourself by asking, “What’re you reading?”

Joel’s head snapped up, and he stared at you over the top of his glasses. Shutting the book quickly, he straightened up on the couch. “Uh, Brave New World,” he lied, flipping the book so you couldn’t see the cover.

You hummed, unconvinced, and bit down on your bottom lip to hide a smirk. Tommy had told you once before that Joel was a sucker for gothic romance novels, but you’d never truly believed him until that moment. From where you stood, you recognised the tattered copy of Wuthering Heights that had gone missing from your bedroom a few months prior.

A flush rose in his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly, picking up a mug that you hadn’t noticed on the floor by his feet. It was cute; a little beige ceramic thing, with an owl painted on it.

“You see the patrol roster for tomorrow?” he spoke into the mug, swiftly changing the subject.

“I did,” you murmured. What you didn’t acknowledge, was that you’d also seen Peterson and Davis’ names on the list for the morning patrol. “Should be nice. We haven’t gone to the ski lodge in a while.”

A vivid memory of you two fucking up there raced through your mind, and a low heat simmered across your face as you remembered Jesse and Dina almost catching you once. Shaking the thought from your mind, you looked at him again to find him gripping the mug tightly, lips pursed in thought.

“We haven’t,” he agreed lowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched a little. “You haven’t been gettin’ called outside the gates much at all these days.”

This is it, you thought hungrily. This is the moment he tells you how he can’t wait to fuck you there tomorrow while you’re supposed to be patrolling. This is the moment he tells you he can’t even wait until tomorrow, and he drags you upstairs to his bed. Warmth flooded through your thighs, and you held your breath, staring at him.

But Joel didn’t say that. Instead, you watched dejectedly from the doorway as he rose slowly from the couch and tucked the tattered book underneath his arm. “Well,” he coughed, turning towards the stairs. “I’m gonna get some shut eye. It’ll be a warm day, and I’d better get some rest before we head out.”

You watched him move towards the stairs, heart beating painfully fast against your ribs.

“I’m actually not tired,” you blurted out. Joel paused. His left hand gripped the banister, and you could’ve sworn it might break in half based on the way his knuckles went white.

“Well, I am,” he said over his shoulder, before padding up towards his room , not even turning to give you a second look.

You tossed and turned for an hour, staring at the ceiling wide awake. The linen sheets stuck to your sweaty skin, making you feel claustrophobic enough to kick them to the end of the bed. You waited for him. Every creak and groan the old house made had your ears twitching, eyes glancing eagerly toward the door, expecting it to creak open and reveal him sneaking in through the darkness.

And when it became clear that he wasn’t coming, you pushed away the uncomfortable feeling it brought, and snaked a hand past the band of your underwear. Your fingers raked over the coarse hair there, teasing yourself for a moment, before you slid a finger through your damp folds. Collecting your slick, you dragged it up to coat your throbbing nerves and sighed in relief.

Your middle finger dragged quick circles over your clit, and all you could picture was Joel above you, fucking you while wearing those stupid fucking glasses. Cursing him in your mind, you pressed a finger past your entrance, and huffed in frustration at how it paled in comparison to the thickness of his digits. You imagined the way the glasses would fall to the tip of his nose, almost falling off his face while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. In an attempt to stifle the soft moans trying to escape your mouth, you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers moving quicker against yourself. And you came like that; hand down your underwear, rubbing yourself frantically, thinking about nothing but him.

It was hot, and the skin of your thighs chafed painfully as you and Joel ambled silently through the stables, getting your horses from their stalls to saddle up. He hadn’t said much to you all morning and you were trying not to read into it, but the fraught silence had you on edge.

You winced upon spotting Davis and Peterson standing by the gate, chatting while they loaded their rifles. Lloyd caught your eye and smiled, offering a short nod in your direction. You returned the nod before looking back down and fiddling with Japan’s saddle, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“Gimme a sec,” he muttered. “Gotta go pick Jesse’s brain.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued tugging on the straps of the saddle, until your skin prickled, a presence looming over your shoulder.

“Should we see if we can swap partners?” that voice sounded, and you turned to see Lloyd smirking suggestively at you. “Send Davis and Miller out East together, and you and me could head to the ski lodge?”

Your palms dampened a little and your eyes darted around the stables. There was no denying that Lloyd Peterson was a handsome guy. He was young, somewhere in his early-twenties. He had bright green eyes that shone in contrast against the dark brown hue of his skin. Straight, bright white teeth almost blinded you whenever he smiled, and you’d have to be a robot not to be effected by it. Past his shoulder, you spotted Joel hovering at the mouth of the stables, gaze trained on the pair of you. Caught, he turned quickly, muttering under his breath as he stalked off toward Jesse.

You looked back to Lloyd and shook your head once. “I don’t think so,” you said. “Gonna stick with Miller today.”

Not giving him much chance to respond, you gripped Japan’s reigns and led her out of the building. Joel and Jesse were talking in hushed tones by the gate, and you walked in their direction, pausing a few metres away when you noticed how tense the conversation seemed to be. Jesse was frowning at the older man, shaking his head slowly.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice came again, and you turned with a sigh, raising a hand to block out the sun as you stared up at him. “Can we talk?”

“Talk,” you rushed out, glancing to the side just as Joel appeared beside you, holding out a rifle. You shouldered it quickly, noticing the way Lloyd seemed to balk at the older man’s presence. “Peterson,” you urged, eager to get it over with. “Get on with it.”

He spared another awkward glance at Joel before speaking in a lowered voice. “Did I do something wrong?” You cringed, knowing Joel could hear every word, and yet he didn’t move a muscle. It seemed he wasn’t going anywhere, eyes trained on the man, uninterested in offering the pair of you any privacy to finish your conversation. “I thought we had a good time, y’know? But you’ve been avoiding me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you replied plainly, even as the thought of him telling Davis about fucking you flashed through your mind. Joel was deadly quiet, eyes flicking between the pair of you like he was watching a game of tennis. You sighed deeply, wishing this wasn’t happening in front of him. In a moment of almost… shame, you realised that you didn’t want Joel to get the wrong idea. Didn’t want him to think that anything else had happened, or would ever happen, between you and Peterson.

“Then why won’t yo-“

“Why don’t you back off kid,” Joel interrupted suddenly, and your shoulders tensed, skin prickling at his harsh tone. “She’s not interested.”

Lloyd flinched at the words, and he looked to you, waiting for you to say something, to refute Joel’s claim. But you were distracted by the sudden warmth in your abdomen, and when you didn’t react quick enough he scoffed quietly, spinning on his heel and walking back where Davis was waiting with their horses. When you looked at Joel, he had a pleased smirk on his face, and you felt your stomach fall somewhat, guilt spreading through you at the way Lloyd rode out of the settlement without looking back.

The ride to the ski lodge was long. For the most part of the three hour trek, you rode alongside each other in silence, until finally you couldn’t help yourself, thoughts tumbling from your mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly.

Joel looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and didn’t say a word.

“He was already embarrassed,” you added. His top lip curled up into a mean smirk.

“Peterson’s an ass. He should be embarrassed.”

A huff escaped your mouth and then he was turning, looking at you fully now with his eyebrows pinched together.

“What, your little boyfriend can’t handle some friendly teasin’?” he sneered, the change in mood so sudden you almost fell off your horse. And all the warmth you’d felt, every soft yearning part inside of you toward him, you pushed it to the side and focused on the confusion instead, allowing it to morph into pure anger. You were seeing red; furious with him for never being able to just see reason.

“Oh, fuck off Joel,” you scowled. “I’m not doing this with you today.” You kicked your heel against Japan’s hide and rode ahead, not listening for a reaction.

The higher the pair of you rode up the mountain, the hotter it got. By the time the horses were tied up by a trough of water and the pair of you were walking into the lodge, sweat was rolling down your skin in rivulets. A headache brewed in your temples, and frustration weighed heavily on your chest as Joel huffed and puffed around the room. Even being able to hear his breathing across the room while he scrawled in the logbook was enough to set your skin on edge. Eager to get some space from the tense atmosphere, you gruffly told him that you were taking first patrol, before shouldering your rifle and stalking back outside into the heat.

“You idiot,” you scowled to yourself, storming through the trees. Shame burned in your chest like a wildfire as you thought back to the night before. Touching yourself in his house, making yourself come thinking about him, wondering if he’d fuck you at the ski lodge. God, you felt like a teenager with a hopeless crush.

Your feet planted in the dirt, the word ringing in your head like an alarm. Eyes wide, you gazed into the trees.

“Nope,” you mumbled, starting to walk again slowly. “No, no, no.”

“Y’know they say talkin’ to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Fuck.

“What are you doing?” you turned quickly, staring him down from through the thick trees. “I told you I’d take first patrol.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Saw you storm off too,” Joel rolled his eyes, propping his hands against his hips. “What’s your problem?”

“Jesus,” you grinned sarcastically. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, stepping forward. The tan skin of his neck glistened in the sunlight, and you hated yourself for wanting to know how it tasted. Thankfully, hatred and anger were easier emotions to tap into than whatever the fuck you had been feeling about him for the past few weeks.

“It means,” you ground out. “That you’re a nasty old bastard.” His face darkened, lips twisted into an angry snarl, but you continued. “Peterson’s not my fucking boyfriend, so you can give it a rest okay? I had it handled.”

“Sure,” he laughed bitterly. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it, havin’ him hit on you right in front of me. You get off on the attention, from him and from me. I bet you loved havin’ me step in, tell him to fuck off.”

Your face was on fire as you glared at him, acutely aware of how the tension had spiked between the pair of you. Entire body tensed, you squared your shoulders and stared him down. “Are you fucking serious, Joel?” you asked lowly, eyebrows raising.

“Deadly,” he grit his teeth. “Don’t forget that I know you, baby, better than anyone.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” you spat desperately, turning around and walking quickly in the opposite direction.

“Oh yeah,” he called, the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you making your stomach drop. “Walk away, sunshine. Let’s just not talk about it, right? I know that’s your favourite thing to do. Walk away, and act like nothing happened.”

“Oh my god!” you shouted. “Grow up, you fucking assho-“ But as you spoke, your foot landed awkwardly on a patch of moss. You heard a low popping sound before you shrieked as your legs flew out from underneath you. You hit the ground awkwardly, ass slamming into the ground, and dirt sprayed into the air around you.

“Shit,” you hissed, moving to get up but cringing as a sharp pain shot through your ankle. The flesh around your shin was already swelling, and you cursed audibly, reaching down to rest your hand against it only to wince at the dull pain spreading through your entire foot.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him say, and then his warm hands were on your shoulders, and he was crouching beside you. Breathing heavily, you stared as your ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball. “Come on, let’s get you back,” Joel said, gripping your elbow to lift you up.

“Get off,” you snapped, shoving him back. He stumbled a little and then stood, glaring down at you. “I can do it myself.”

“Clearly you fuckin’ can’t.”

Eager to prove a point, you dug your fingers into the dirt and pushed yourself up, and then began limping back towards the ski lodge.

You moved slowly with Joel trailing just a few steps behind, close enough that you could hear his breathing, and the way he muttered inaudibly whenever you stumbled. When you almost tripped trying to step over a tree branch, he snapped, appearing at your side in an instant and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Joel,” you warned lowly, but he interrupted.

“Would you stop bein’ such a brat,” he snarled. “You might’ve broken your fuckin’ ankle, just let me help you god damnit.”

You grumbled under your breath but didn’t fight him again, silently grateful to lean on him and get some weight off the injury. His chest rose and fell quickly as he led you back to the lodge, and you could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“It’s not broken,” you muttered. “Probably just a sprain.”

“Good,” he grunted, helping you up the steps and into the building. “Idiot.”

“Jeez, thanks, Joel,” you said bitterly. “You’re a real pal.”

His hand gripped your waist tighter, before lowering you onto the couch. “Any time, bud.”

Joel stormed into the kitchen and returned moments later with a bottle of water, tossing it at you before slamming down onto the sofa beside you. “Jesse and Dina will be here in a few hours, just keep it elevated until then.”

“You got it doc,” you rolled your eyes, eagerly gulping down the water even though it had gotten uncomfortably warm in his pack.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, your ankle throbbing where it rested atop the coffee table.

“I don’t fuckin’ get you,” Joel finally breathed, and you looked to him with a raised eyebrow and a snarky comment on your lips, only to find him with his head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“You heard me,” he said. “I don’t fuckin’ get you. You go two weeks avoidin’ me, I hardly see you, then you’re knocking on my door, askin’ to stay? And then today you’re cursin’ my goddamn name. Throw me a fuckin’ bone, darlin’, cause I got no idea where I stand with you.”

Your lips parted, all the breath in your lungs rushing out of you in one fell swoop. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown settled across his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. He didn’t look angry, you realised. He looked confused; he looked hurt. Your stomach rolled.

“I could say the same,” you started pathetically, and then his eyes flashed open and he was staring back at you with those dark brown eyes that fucking killed you.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he said blankly, eyes darting around your face.

Your lips felt numb as you slowly asked, “What?”

“You left,” he said quietly. “You fuckin’ left me, and I just don’t know if I can keep pretendin’ anymore. Pretend that this doesn’t… mean anything to me. Pretend that I’m fine with… this. Don’t know if I can keep doing it if you’re just gonna leave. My heart can’t take it.”

It felt like time stood still for a moment. Outside one of the open windows, you could hear the trees rustling in the hot summer wind. Your ankle ached. Joel kept staring at you.

“You know that’s the best I’ve slept in years?” he asked softly, licking his lips. “Slept so fuckin’ sound with you next to me. No nightmares – hell, I didn’t even dream. And then I woke up, and you were gone, and I almost wished it had never happened. So that I wouldn’t have to know how good it felt to have you, wouldn’t have to try and sleep without you every night after, knowing exactly what I was missing.”

“Joel,” you tried again but he shook his head, raising a hand in the air to stop you.

“Just let me,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking. “Let me say this. Just once, and then I’ll let it be, okay? I won’t bring it up again, and we can go back to the way things were befo-“

“Stop,” you croaked out, tears swimming in your eyes. “Shut up for a second. I,” you paused, eyes darting over his face, searching for understanding. “I didn’t want to leave, okay? But I’m scared Joel. Jesus, I’m so scared of this.”

“Scared?”

“Of this feeling that won’t go away. Of wanting to stay. I’ve been trying to push it down, to ignore it, and it doesn’t fucking work, no matter what I do. I’m so scared that I’ve fucked up our friendship, that I’m going to lose yo-“

“Never,” he shook his head firmly, hand reaching out to squeeze your knee. “Listen, you’re not losin’ me, okay? That's never gonna happen.”

“But Joel,” you sighed shakily. “If we push things further, there’s no going back. Don’t you understand?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he admitted quietly. “I think it’s been too late for me for a while now.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, and when you spoke again you could hear the fear in your voice. “I don’t know if I can be what you want.”

Joel chuckled humourlessly and sighed, squeezing your thigh again.

“It’s you,” he said. “That’s what I want. You don’t have to do anythin’, don’t have to change or be anythin’ else. I just want you.” His eyes shone in earnest, and you couldn’t help but surge forward, planting your lips against his. He returned the kiss with fervour, parting your lips with his tongue and gripping the sides of your face in a searing grip.

He tasted like salt and mint and your head was swimming, consumed by him. Your fingertips were numb as they raced over his body, desperate to touch him everywhere all at once. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until his hands joined yours, carefully undoing them all until you could pry it off him.

Pulling back from the kiss, you allowed your eyes to rake over his exposed chest, taking in the sight of his tanned, hairy chest, littered with scars and freckles and you felt the urge to kiss every single one of them. So you did. You pushed him back into the couch and straddled him, ignoring the way your ankle cried out at the movement, and attached your lips to his collarbone, licking and sucking your way across his torso. Showing reverence to every imperfection on his skin. Your tongue swiped past one of his nipples and he jolted beneath you, hands dragging under the fabric of your shirt to rest on your back. You could feel him growing hard beneath you and you smiled against his skin before rolling your hips down against his. He was murmuring your name in between sighs, scratching at your skin, revelling in the kisses you sponged across his chest.

Your eyes trailed upwards to meet his. “Want your cock in my mouth,” you whispered, and his face crumpled in on itself, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping your hands tightly before pushing you off him. He stood up and in one quick movement he knocked the coffee table over, before he was undoing his belt and stripping his pants off. He helped you off the couch slowly, before lowering you down onto the carpet, crouching down to rest beside you. His large hands roamed across your chest, gripping the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward to expose your breasts, your aching nipples peaked and begging to be touched.

“Fuck,” he repeated, harsher this time, leaning over you to plant his mouth on your chest. His teeth scraped across your sensitive skin and you whined, gripping the nape of his neck as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked gently.

“Joel,” you mewled, tugging his face back up to yours for a brief kiss. “I mean it,” you breathed into his mouth. “Need you in my mouth so bad. M’gonna make you feel so good, I swear.” Within a second, he flipped the two of you over so his back was against the ground and you were straddling his hips. You grinned triumphantly, shifting your hips back as you kissed down his chest, moving your body down until you were straddling his shins, and pulling his briefs down with you.

His cock rested proudly against his stomach, thick and swollen and begging to be touched. The head was a deep shade of red, small beads of precum weeping out of his tip as he stared at you, patiently waiting for you to make a move. You didn’t waste a second before leaning down and gliding your tongue softly over the tip, swiping up his salt and humming at the taste. A sharp inhale whistled past his teeth, and you watched his eyes clamp shut at the sensation, hand forming a fist at his side. Gently, you took his hand and raised it to your head, encouraging him to touch you. He obliged, fisting your hair in his hand, grip tightening as you parted your lips around him and let him sink into your warm mouth. A long, drawn-out moan left his mouth and your cunt pulsed in response, the warmth between your thighs suddenly impossible to ignore.

“S-so good for me,” he groaned, pulling your hair tighter. “Love your mouth, I love it. That’s it, baby, open up a little more for me, show me how much you can take.”

The sharp sting on your scalp made you moan around him, and he cursed, undoubtedly feeling the vibration. The weight of him against your tongue was intoxicating, and you bobbed your head up and down slowly, his cock gliding in and out of your mouth easily, slick with your spit. You’d missed the taste of him, missed the sensation of him filling you up to the point where it was hard to breathe, and yet you still wanted more. You pressed forward, eager to feel him fill you up, but when his cock brushed the back of your throat he was gripping your hair and pulling you off him.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and you looked up in confusion. His bottom lip was bitten raw, and his eyes were a darker brown than normal as he gazed at you. When you didn’t move, he was pulling you up and turning your body so your back was to him, and only then did you realise what he meant. He pulled your shorts down your legs, dragging your underwear with them, and then he carefully tugged one of your knees up and over his shoulder, so you were straddling his chest. Slowly, you shuffled back on your knees until your wet heat was hovering over his face, and you leaned down to let your chest rest against his.

“Baby,” Joel sighed. “So fuckin’ perfect. Such a pretty pussy. Can never get enough of you.”

You clenched around nothing, and heard him groan, signalling that he’d seen it. Without warning, his tongue dipped between your folds and you gasped, pushing your hips back to give him a better angle, before taking him back into your mouth. And it was nothing like it had been two nights before. He wasn’t gentle, or slow, or relaxed. No, Joel was relentless.

His tongue moved rhythmically against you, and you tried desperately to focus, harsh breaths leaving your nose as you moved your mouth lazily along his length. You pulled back and lathed your tongue around the head of him, tasting the salt that dripped out of him. He grunted into you and you smiled, stroking him slowly as you sucked the tip, grinding your tongue into the sensitive skin just underneath his head. Joel’s hips bucked up off the ground, and your hand left his length, gripping his waist firmly to hold him down while you took him into your mouth again. You pushed yourself as far as you could, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he brushed the back of your throat. His beard scratched against your inner thighs deliciously, and you decided you loved it a little longer. And then suddenly, his tongue moved away from your clit and he was licking broad strokes along the entirety of your core, and then over your entrance, and then… his tongue flicked all the way back and into new territory.

You flinched forward, his cock surging deeper into your throat and you gagged around him as you explored the new feeling. You moaned, eyes screwing shut at the foreign sensation, and you felt your legs begin to shake against his sides. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you down harder against his face, ruthlessly dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to your hole, until you were tearing your mouth away him and sitting up, grinding yourself down desperately against his face. Arching your back, you writhed on top of him, crying out hoarsely. Every strong flick of his tongue felt like an electric shock jolting through your body, and he continued until you were panting and twitching on top of him, and then you let go. The orgasm tore through you, a shout falling from your lips as you rode his face, gripping his thighs for leverage as your entire body shuddered with the intensity. He didn’t let up; licking and sucking and kissing, his moans vibrating through your core until you were whimpering and dragging yourself off him, clit aching from the pressure.

You were still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Joel pressed your back down onto the carpet, nudged your knees apart so he could fit between them, and pushed himself inside you. A sweet, low burn blazed in your abdomen with every inch he gave to you. The wet sound of you sucking him in might have embarrassed you, but the look of awe on his face as he stared down at where you were connected just made you feel powerful.

His thrusts were strong, the sweaty skin of your thighs smacking against each other noisily filling the air, mixing with your breathless moans of his name.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he was saying, but you weren’t listening, eyes rolling back in your head as he played with your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cried out at a particularly hard thrust, stomach tensing as the head of his cock grinded against your g-spot.

“There?” he panted, and you nodded frantically, mouth hanging open as he pressed against it over and over again, groaning at the way you tensed around him.

Urgent sounds left your lips as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, and you watched with wide eyes as his hand trailed down your chest to rest over your mound, his thumb slipping between your folds to press gently against your throbbing clit. Your back arched up from the ground and you choked out a moan as he rubbed you in slow circles, a stark contrast to the way he drilled into you with his cock.

“Come,” Joel encouraged and you whimpered, eyes screwing shut as the overwhelming feeling soared through you. His free hand landed over your throat and your eyes flew open, looking up at him as he applied soft pressure to the sides of your neck. “C’mon baby, let me have it. I can feel you, you’re so fuckin’ close, give it to me, please, I want it.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you gasped against his hold, bucking up into him as he fucked you roughly. You twitched and writhed on the ground, his thumb never stopping its movements against your clit as you cried out his name.

And somewhere amidst it all, his movements slowed. His hands turned soft on your body, head dropping down to drag gentle wet kisses along the skin of your neck.

“So good,” he praised lowly. “So beautiful.” Your heart soared in your chest, and you smiled drowsily, body tingling as he continued to give you gentle thrusts.

“Kiss me,” you said shyly, and Joel smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into his mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip as you draped your heavy arms around his neck, pinning his torso down against yours. “Fuck me like this,” you told him. “Want to feel you close to me.”

He nodded, starting up a slow rhythm, only ever pulling out halfway before pressing back into you. You were both slick with sweat, and you wiped his forehead gently before raking your fingers through his thick messy curls. His face was red from exertion, and you thumbed his cheekbones gently. A heavy sigh fell from your mouth. Still recovering from your previous orgasm, you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to build you up for another one.

“Give me one more,” he begged, sponging feather light kisses over your eyelids, your cheeks, down your neck. “Want to feel you come with me, baby, please. Just one more, I know you can.”

You gripped his hair and kissed him deeply, your tongues tangling together as he moved his hips slowly, cock dragging in and out of you at a devastating pace. Joel pulled back to watch you, eyes gazing down with adoration as he moved above you. That familiar liquid heat began to burn in your stomach, curling through every fibre of your being, and you could see in his face that he was close. And there was something else there too. Something you couldn’t place; simmering in his eyes, lingering on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. His hips began to stutter against yours, a choked gasp of your name falling from his lips as he quickened his pace until you were coming together, holding each other tightly on the ground of the ski lodge. He moaned heavily against your mouth, and you throbbed around him as his spend coated your walls, warm and slick, squeezing out around his cock as he moved.

As a low, warm silence filled the room, you worked to control your breathing, body shaking against his as he pulled out of you. You whimpered at the empty feeling, missing the weight of him already. But he didn’t go far.

Joel laid down on the carpet beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. Your fingers trailed over the skin of his stomach, smiling at the goosebumps that developed in your wake. Mine.

His hand caught yours and he lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. You leaned forward to rest your face in the rook of his neck, and he sighed in contentment, trailing his fingers down your back.

“Hey Joel?” you murmured against his skin.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I called you a nasty old bastard.”

Joel laughed and tightened his grip around your back, tugging you closer to his chest. “I forgive you.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #fwb joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #bite the bullet #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

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erwinsvow · 10 days

Note

Ok but what about shy girl reader being really frightened by something to the point of tears and calling rafe but struggling to explain why shes upset only that she needs him while he’s going batshit on the other line worried about her

this was lovely ! rafe certainly has his own methods of calming down shy reader when she's scared ... hehe <3

of course it happens on a night where rafe's out of town, one of the first that he's not around since the two of you have started dating. you had become awfully accustomed to having rafe sleeping right next to you, ever since your third or fourth date, that had been the norm. if not, he was always down the street or a phone call away.

and really, you tried to keep it together. it was just one of those nights—kickstarted by the time you'd spent with your friends morning. you were only trying to keep yourself occupied while rafe was away, thinking they'd help pass the hours, but you'd all headed to the movies, and of course, it was a horror showing.

even in the broad daylight, you felt scared throughout the day the demon from the movie was going to get you. heading back home for the day, it didn't help that the only thing on tv was true crime documentaries playing back to back. the cherry on top was your parents heading out for dinner with their friends on the mainland, saying they'd be back tomorrow morning.

you tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. not even the gentle lull of your records and thirty pages of war and peace could get your mind to settle and put you to sleep.

what you really needed was your boyfriend. he could fix anything, make everything seem better. your fears needed his protectiveness near by to keep them at bay, otherwise they'd spill over and conquer like they were right now.

but you were trying to be good—trying to show rafe you weren't always so clingy, that he could have space when and if he needed it. besides for your replies to his periodic check-ins you hadn't much texted him today, knowing he was busy.

the final crack of a branch outside, cutting through the eerie whistling of the wind against your house and the sound of the waves far away had you scrambling up. you flicked on the lamp and checked that your door was locked for the tenth time that night.

deep breaths, you tried to remind yourself, like rafe would always tell you. you tried to head to the window to see what the noise was from but fear overtook, dialing rafe's number and listening to the rings while crawling back into bed, pulling your knees to your chest.

like always, he answers before it gets to three rings.

"hey. what'd you still doin' up? s'late."

"rafe-" and you can't stop the ramble that spills out, all in one breath. "um, we saw this scary movie today and the demon was outside the house and then it was in the house and then it possessed the girl when she was alone and now i'm home alone because mom and daddy left and there was this serial killer show on tv and i wasn't even watching but he killed girls home alone too and i just heard something outside and m'scared-"

"woah, woah. slow down. you saw a scary movie?" you try to catch your breath, but it's hard, picturing rafe wherever he was pacing around listening to you, instead of being next to you like he should be.

"i-um, i'm scared, rafe-" you finally get out slowly, and you sniffle, feeling hot tears run down. really, you shouldn't have gone to see that movie.

"hey, hey. s'fine. gonna be okay, just need to relax. can you do that for me?" you nod, forgetting he can't see you. "good girl. is everything locked? downstairs too?"

"y-yes..think so. i checked when i got home."

"even the back door? and the guest window, the one i come in through?" you flush at the memory of rafe sneaking in through that window.

"yes. mm-hm."

"alright, kid. no one's comin' in then. and those movies are crap anyways. y'need to learn how to say no to those friends."

"i know. it seemed like a good idea then-"

"yeah, i know. you got a light on?"

"my lamp."

"good. now get into bed. y'need to relax or you'll never fall asleep. jesus."

"okay," you mumble, sliding in and getting comfortable. "how do i relax?"

"how do you usually relax?" he questions, though your face flushes at the answer you want to give. there's only one surefire method of getting you to calm down when you're like this, something rafe is well aware of.

"um.. i don't know." your bedroom was cold a second ago, now everything felt warm and tingly.

"yeah. sure you don't. c'mon, get your clothes off. i'll help you relax."

"oh." it comes out like a little moan, soft. you comply with his instructions. "thanks rafey."

you hear him laugh, though he still sounds rough on the phone.

"yeah, y'welcome. gotta do everything, don't i? clothes off yet? good. now start touching y'self for me.."

#phone sex with rafe !! <3 #sorry babe i made this wholesome idea a little freaky at the end but sooo cute !!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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macfrog · 11 months

Text

welcome home cowboy like me chapter five

he's back!!! and he's putting up DECORATIONS part v is yours, loves. if ya wanna read the first four (!! how did we get here) parts, you can check out my masterlist right here 😊 as always your support means the WORLD to me. i love talking with y'all & hearing your thoughts. lmk what we think of this one!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel requests your help to decorate his house for sarah’s return…and a few other things, too

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! the smut is smutting. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it the fuck UP), praise kink, lil bit of overstimulation, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), un poco consumption of alcohol, cursing, soft!joel at the end tbh i'm a sucker for him

word count: 5.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first. You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second? “I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

The two front legs of your chair scrape against the wooden floor as you lift it to sit down. Your dad had an early finish today, so said he’d cook dinner. From scratch.

He’d refused your help when you offered to keep an eye on the chicken, was more offended when you said you’d cook the asparagus, and now, looking at your scrunched nose as you stare down at the lumpy mashed potatoes, looks just plain insulted.

“Sit, eat, don’t say a word.”

“I offered to help.”

His fork hits off the porcelain plate and he sighs. “I had a lot to tend to, alright?”

“Chicken, asparagus, and…mashed potatoes?” you say, dragging your fork through the mash – though it’s more lump than it is mash.

“Eat. It.”

You tuck in, ignoring the rattle of the table as you tug your knife back and forth to cut the chicken. Your dad’s face reddens as you chew your way through his meal.

“How was work?”

You throw your mouthful back your throat with a gulp and take a big swig of water. “Good,” you try not to choke out, “Sal let me go early ‘cause it was so quiet.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Bill was in lookin’ for screws or something. Was Anna who helped him–”

Your sentence is cut short by your dad’s ringtone, and he leans back in his chair to the sideboard behind to retrieve it.

“Yep?” he says, and you know who’s on the other end. Yep? means Joel. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her. Well, she’s right here, gimme a sec.”

He covers the bottom of his phone with his palm, and nods toward you.

“You alright to head over to Joel’s tonight ‘n help ‘im with the house for Sarah comin’ home?”

You narrow your eyes, head tilting. “What…?”

“He’s got some banner or something. Joel, what is it you got? Yeah, a banner. Decorations.”

He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you blankly.

You slowly nod, teeth pulling asparagus off your fork. “I can help.”

“She’ll be over in a bit, Joel. Alright. Alright. Bye, now.”

The phone is thrown onto the table with a clatter. Your dad silently resumes eating.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal over something you feel very not normal about.

“You volunteerin’ me for things again? I thought we talked about this when you told Rita I’d fix up her flowerbeds for her.”

“Oh, we’re bringin’ up the past, are we?”

“Just sayin’,” you mutter, staring down at your lumpy potatoes.

“Wasn’t me, anyways. Joel asked for you specially this afternoon. Told him you were workin’, he said to ask you when you got back. Was his idea.”

Was it, now? That’s…interesting.

“What time’s he wanting me over?”

“Whenever. He’s in all night.”

Suddenly you’re not so hungry for overcooked chicken and not-mashed potatoes anymore.

You swallow down what you can – what’s edible, anyway – and head upstairs to get ready. Trying to act casual enough that your dad won’t sense your eagerness.

Sure, just grabbing my shoes. I just want the house to look nice for Sarah. It’s really her I’m thinking of. Okay, cool, see you, bye.

You throw a pair of sneakers on, check yourself once over in the mirror, and grab your keys.

“That was quick,” your dad remarks when you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still powering through his asparagus.

“Just…wanna get it done. For Sarah, y’know.”

He nods. “You lookin’ forward to havin’ her back? Your ol’ pal?”

“Sure. Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”

You practically throw yourself out the front door before he can get another word in, striding over to your car. You’re thankful when the late sun hits you to only be in sweat shorts and a vest top; it may be seven in the evening, but the heat is still stifling.

You pull up in Joel’s drive and climb out, giving the neighborhood a quick scan as you walk over to the front door, trying not to skip. Being handed an excuse to spend a few hours alone with him in an empty house feels like winning the lottery, you’re a little embarrassed to admit.

Joel’s in the living room laying out the decorations he’s bought when you walk in. He’s wearing a denim shirt and white Rangers tee underneath, his regular old jeans on the bottom.

His Hello is comprised of a glance up, a lift of his eyebrows, and a quick scan over your body as you approach. You take a deep breath to dissipate the bubbling feeling in your stomach.

“So, you asked for me specially, huh?”

He nods. “It was either you or your dad, and his ass ain’t as nice to look at as yours.”

“Oh, nice. Glad to be of service. Looks good,” you muse, nodding downward.

The supplies are sprawled out over the coffee table between you both. A huge banner folded up; the beginning of the word Welcome visible. A few packets of multi-colored streamers, balloons, and other gold and silver colored stuff lay around it.

“Probably won’t use it all,” Joel says, sniffing. “Just wanted to give her a big welcome home.”

“All my dad did was pick me up at the airport,” you scoff.

Joel looks up, misses a beat, then says, “Well, your welcome home gift is me.”

“Ha. Good one. C’mon. Let’s get started.”

You task Joel with blowing up balloons while you balance along the back of his couch to tape streamers to the top of the walls. It’s a struggle, though, since Joel keeps tying balloons and hitting them over to you, aiming for your head. He titters to himself when your hair begins to go static.

“That funny to you?” you yell, whacking the fifth balloon out of your face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles back. “You should see your hair, kid.”

By the time the streamers are suspended from the ceiling, dancing in the breeze from the open windows, Joel’s out of breath and sweating.

“Hard fuckin’ work,” he mutters, taking off his shirt. He throws it onto the couch without looking, but still, you suspect he knows exactly what you’ll do.

With a sideward glance to him, you lean back and fish it from the couch, throwing it over yourself. There’s something intoxicating about wearing his clothes, smelling him all over yourself, feeling the warmth from his body. Joel knows it. When he glances over at you to see his shirt hanging off your shoulders, he smirks.

“I think we deserve a break,” he says, eyes lingering.

When he makes off for the kitchen, you throw yourself down on his couch, head falling back against the soft cushions.

He returns with two beers, handing one down to you before laying back beside you. Your shoulders rub against one another as you both take a swig.

“Your dad really didn’t do nothin’? When you got home?”

“I guess you could say he did the barbecue,” you reply, shrugging.

“The neighborhood barbecue, that everyone takes a turn at hostin’? The same one he had you out buyin’ steaks and soda for, two hours before it started?”

“I don’t need a welcome home party. I am the welcome home party.” Your middle finger meets your thumb and you give your wrist a shake in the air, and Joel laughs.

“You deserve one.”

“You wanna throw me one?”

“Can do. If you want.”

You smile in response.

A few moments of silence pass. Comfortable silence. You lie, temple resting against Joel’s shoulder, listening to the trees in his back yard rustle, the birds singing. Peaceful, tranquil. Content.

You like talking with Joel. You like when he’s doing other stuff to you, sure, but you like just being around him. It’s different to spending time with anyone else his age. They all want to ask about your future, your career, are you dating anyone?

Joel just lets you be. Doesn’t push nothin’, doesn’t make you worry. Just wants to make you feel good.

Both mentally and physically, of course.

“Heard any more from Arthur Kennedy?” you ask, more just to hear his voice again than anything. You’re kinda worried he’s falling asleep over there.

Joel takes a deep breath, starts playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Nope,” he says, taking a quick sip, “and don’t wanna.”

“What is it with him, anyways? Why is he the way he is?”

“Just a dirtbag of a man. You get ‘em, y’know? Ain’t none of us really like him. I was pissed at your dad for askin’ him the other day.”

“What does he say at Frank’s? What kinda talk does he give?”

Joel shakes his head like he doesn’t even want to open his mouth. When you nudge him, he clears his throat and then speaks.

“Just all this, ‘I bagged this chick last week’, ‘I was messin’ ‘round with this little beauty’… ‘Tighter ‘n a’ this, ‘Wetter ‘n a’ that. We all know he’s just talkin’ load. The man’s too old to even get an erection anymore.”

You snort. “I bet I could run rings around ‘im, if I ever caught him talking like that.”

Joel half laughs, but it falls apart when his tone gets quietly serious again.

“Just…do me a favor, and stay away from him,” he says in a soft voice. “You’d have me up all night if I thought him ‘n his sleazy hands were anywhere near you.”

He turns his head to lean his jaw on your hair. You think over what he just said. The thought of Joel, awake all night with worry about some sleazeball being within a four-house radius of you makes your stomach flutter.

The idea of him being worried about you. The thought of what he’d do if he ever caught wind Arthur Kennedy had even so much as looked at you twice.

Before your stomach lurches out of your throat with the butterflies soaring around it, you decide to cut the moment short.

“Where’s the banner goin’?” You lean forward, placing your beer on the coffee table and taking hold of the sign.

“Was thinkin’ on that wall,” Joel nods to the wall across from the living room door, “so it’s the first thing she sees when she comes in.”

“Uhuh,” you reply, nodding.

“C’mere,” he says, standing up. “Climb on.”

“Climb on what?”

“My shoulders. I can’t reach all the way up there, what with the TV in the way and all.”

“You’re, like, six feet.”

“It’s a big banner,” he grumbles, kneeling to let you swing your legs over his shoulders. “C’mon. Up.”

“Pfft, okay, old man.”

“Old–? Did you just–? That’s not even funny.”

Joel straightens up and you clutch your stomach with laughter.

“Will you just get on, baby?”

“Alright, alright. Stay still.”

You carefully mount his shoulders and his steady hands wrap around your knees, holding you in place. You wobble as he straightens his legs, lifting you so high your head brushes off the ceiling.

“Alright, be careful. No sudden movements.”

“Right here?” you ask, positioning it.

“Little to the left,” he groans, craning his neck to see. “Right there, that’s it.”

You push the pin through the banner and into the wall, releasing your breath once it’s secured. Joel slowly shuffles over to the other side where you line it up and do the same there.

Once all four corners are in place, he steps back, your legs still wrapped over his neck, and you both admire your teamwork. Joel’s thumbs are gently rubbing your thighs.

“Looks good, huh?”

“Mhm,” you reply. “Anything else to go up?”

“Nah. That’ll do.”

“You just keepin’ me up here for company, then?” you ask, leaning over to look at his face.

He looks back up at you and snorts. “Sorry, darlin’.”

Joel slowly makes over to the couch and bends a little, letting you dismount him to stand on the leather cushion. You’re only slightly taller than him, even standing on his furniture.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning from your lips down to your chest, curtained by his shirt, then over your stomach and down your legs. You know that look. You’ve seen it enough by now. It means…

“What’s next?” you innocently ask, and his eyes snap back up to your face.

Instead of answering, he steps forward, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you against him. His chin tilts up and you smile as you dip your head, connecting your lips.

You immediately deepen the kiss, feeling Joel’s hunger, and satiating your own, too. Your arms drape over his shoulders, relaxing as his form holds you, allowing you to fold into him.

His arms take a grip of you as he bends at the waist, lowering you both down onto the couch, laughing against each other’s lips. He pulls your thighs apart to lean his hips between yours.

His hands begin exploring your body, feeling from your hips over your breasts, making you moan into the kiss, and settle on the collar of his shirt, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders to remove it. In return, your fingers find the hem of his tee and pull it up over his midriff, hunger growing with each hot second that passes.

He leans back, giving you room to whip the shirt over his head, before his naked torso is back on you. His fingers then dance along the waistband of your shorts, untying them whilst his other hand plays at the hem of your vest.

Your shorts lying loose on your hips, he peels your top off of your body, and your shoulders lift to let it over your head. Joel takes the opportunity while your back is off the couch to unclip your bra, throwing the article to the floor.

“Nice,” you whisper into his mouth, and he chuckles in response.

His bare chest, decorated lightly with dark brown hair, is against yours; his lips move to your neck, biting another mark into the sensitive skin. Your head tilts back and you let out a moan, wanting more, but Joel’s taking his time. He’s making every second count.

You buck your hips against his and he lifts his head, giving you a knowing smirk and obeying your silent request. He begins making his way down, not forgetting to stop off by your tits and run his tongue over your nipples.

Your hands find home in his hair and your back arches some as he caresses the hardened buds, lips forming an O shape to suck on one while tending to the other with his thumb and index finger.

When you whine and your hips lift a second time, he moves across your tummy and toward your lowering shorts.

Eyes glazed with lust, you watch as he yanks them down, your panties the only thing separating you from him now. You hear your shorts hit the floor when he drops them, and places a wet kiss over your clothed cunt.

“Joel,” you moan, head falling back against the cushion. He’s driving you fucking insane.

“Mhm,” he murmurs, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want.”

You writhe under his touch; he’s so close, and yet so far.

“Your tongue,” you whimper.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over your moanin’, pretty girl.”

“Fuck– Need your fucking tongue,” you say as clearly as you can, still whining some.

“Good girl.”

He uncovers your soaking cunt and tears – literally, tears – your panties off of your body, balling them up in a tight fist. You gasp, both delighted and relieved, watching him discard the ripped fabric by his side.

Neither of you give a fuck. You’re desperate to feel each other, be on each other, be in each other.

He dips his head to your sex, and drags a long stripe up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue as he does. His tongue runs between your folds, swirling around, licking and threatening to dip further, before he lifts away again.

You let out a long moan, hands still tugging at his hair, attempting to push his head harder on your pussy. He doesn’t budge.

“Patience, baby,” he’s whispering, lowering his chin again to place his soft lips against your swollen clit.

He knows what he’s fucking doing – teasing you and making you wait like this. He wants it to build, really build, before you cum. He’s not cutting any corners.

His lips center over your bud, tongue tapping against it as he sucks, and brings his fingers up to sift through your folds. Your cunt aches for him; your hips find rhythm against his mouth as you fuck yourself off of him, and he lets you.

Feeling how wet you are, he plunges two long, curved fingers into your pussy, and your back, sticky with sweat, peels off of the couch for the second time.

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of his fingers inside you.

He hums against you, the vibrations of his deep voice pleasuring you more. He’s loving it as much as you are; tasting you, hearing you, breathing all of it in like it’s fresh air to his lungs.

Your breathing begins to falter, your chest rising and falling, your entire body ignited by his touch. You’re panting his name over and over, whining every time his fingers hit the spongey walls of your cunt.

He’s so fucking good at this.

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips, mouth planted firmly against your pussy. You widen your legs and he pushes down on your thighs, keeping them apart to make room for his jaw against your core, tongue licking between your folds again.

“Tongue,” you remind him.

“I hear ya,” he mumbles, and opens his lips.

His wet tongue slips into your cunt like it’s made to be there. You screw your eyes shut, pushing your upper back into the couch to lift your ass to him. His top lip cups around your clit as he eats you out, moans strumming against your sex, tongue exploring your wet hole.

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he removes his lips for two seconds to tell you to “Keep goin’, baby.”

“Doin’ so well for me,” he laps at your juices, “taste so fucking good, beautiful.”

He inserts his fingers again to bring you nearer your climax, and your mind starts to blank. You know what’s coming.

You can’t even form the shape of his name with your mouth as you draw nearer and nearer to your high; all you can focus on is the feeling of his hand fucking you, pumping in and out of your tight pussy, the way his tongue soaks your clit, the rutting of your hips all over his face.

It’s so fucking filthy, and so fucking good.

When Joel’s voice breaks through the fog in your brain, telling you to “Let go, baby, I’m here,” you obey him.

The edges of the room start to bleed white as your body lifts, fingers gripping onto Joel’s hair, hips digging further into the cushion.

It’s only ten o’clock; for all you know, Joel’s neighbors might be out in their backyard enjoying the warm night breeze. Do you care? Fuck no. You cry his name loud enough that the whole street might hear.

He coaxes you through it, drinking in your orgasm, moaning when your walls lock around his fingers and you cover his tongue in your sweet wet.

He slips his soaked fingers from your core and you whine at the loss; Joel makes up for it by gently massaging your aching clit as you come down, spreading your cum all over you.

“That’s it, baby, did so good. That felt good, huh?”

Still coming to, you don’t reply; you feel his weight back on top of yours, his safe arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“’s okay, darlin’,” he coos as your sight starts to return. He peppers your neck with gentle, wet kisses, bringing you back to earth.

Before even you realize it, your fingers are grasping at his jeans, blindly trying to undo the button and zipper. Joel laughs, lifting his hips to give you better access.

You giggle, loosening them and hauling them past his hips, and he sits up to drag them down his legs and shove them off near your shorts.

“What now, sweet girl?”

Your voice is low, serious. Barely above a whisper.

“Fuck me.”

He almost looks taken aback. As if he never thought he’d hear those words escape your lips. Like he’d been pushing you, further and further, expecting you to always hold back, always bounce back from the edge.

And here you are, clutching his arms and hauling him over with you.

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first.

You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second?

“I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

Joel’s eyes darken just as his huge cock bounces free from his underwear.

He’s watching your lips breathe out the words like it’s all he ever wanted to hear, all he’s thought about since that first night with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him so innocently.

Just waiting to be fucking ruined by him.

You slur the words again. “F-fuck me.”

“Yeah? ‘s that what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He’s kneeling over you now, helping you tug the underwear down his legs, precum-coated tip of his cock drawing circles on your stomach.

When he’s fully naked, he presses his body against yours, speaking to you between hot, wet kisses.

“You sure you can take it, pretty girl?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, lust taking over any remnants of your orgasm. Just fucking fuck me.

Joel’s hips raise, and he looks down to guide his cock to your hole. You bring your knees up, positioning them just under his biceps.

“Good,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re so wet that when he runs his shaft through your folds, slicking himself up, his tip kisses the entrance of your cunt, drawing a gasp from you and a growl from Joel. You’re desperate for him to just slide in, make himself at home where he belongs, between your hips.

And when he does, it’s fucking euphoric.

He’s big. You knew this already. But feeling him inside you is different.

He pushes in halfway first, letting you get used to him.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod; your voice catches in your throat as he falls out of you, just to thrust in again and let his cock dive through your soaked, swollen folds straight into your warm cunt.

He’s so big that when he bottoms out inside you for the first time, your mouth falls open wordlessly, and your brain shuts down for a few minutes. Nothing but the feeling of him slipping in and out of your cunt slowly, fucking you dumb.

When he knows you can take him, he picks up the pace, dragging his hips back and forth against yours, filling you up until his tip kisses the edge of your cervix, and pulling out until he’s between your folds again.

You’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re hanging off a cliff edge. The feeling of his hot skin under your arms is the only thing keeping you grounded right now; the pressure between your legs with each thrust of his huge cock threatening to pull you off the edge of the abyss.

When his voice breathes in your ear between his groans, you snap back to reality. Thighs burning, nails scratching, pussy throbbing reality.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me hear you, pretty girl, tell me how good it feels.”

He’s going faster still, balls smacking against your ass every time he bottoms out, sighs and whimpers passing your lips.

You whine his name, telling him, “Harder,” and he obliges, hips snapping ever stronger. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he thrusts, the pressure spreading spots of pure bliss across your vision.

You look down to where your bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. It turns you on even more.

“We look good, huh?” his voice lulls from above, and you look back up to find him watching you.

He dips his head and kisses you, and you start to near your second high.

“Joel,” you mewl, the feeling so good you can’t even form the words to tell him.

He knows, anyway.

“So good, baby,” he’s panting, sweaty forehead leaning against yours, “gonna cum all over me again?”

You nod, eyes screwing shut. He’s fucking you so good you’re barely remembering to breathe.

“Let go, darlin’, let me hear you,” he whispers, and you fold.

Joel bites into the crook of your neck and lets out a loud groan as he feels your pussy clamp around him. He fucks you through it, only slowing for a few seconds to let it wash over you, then picks the pace straight back up when you quieten and your breathing calms.

You’re so fucking overstimulated, but he’s not done, and you know what he wants. You want something, too. Maybe you two could work together.

“Joel?”

“Mhm?” He’s gone quiet, chasing his own high. You hear his breathing stammer when you say it.

“Want you to do it from behind.”

“Beh–” He’s almost gasping for breath, but when he understands what you mean, he wastes no time.

Wordlessly, he loosens his grip on you and pushes himself up, dick slipping out. You moan at the feeling of emptiness as it pulls out of you.

He gives you space to turn over, helping you move further up the couch with steady hands on your hips. When you settle, he lifts your ass up.

“Not gonna last long, baby,” he tells you, and you nod. Your right ear lies flat, sweat sticking you to the leather, hands splayed out above your head gripping the cushions.

You feel him line up again, his thighs against yours. Your breathing jilts as his head pushes in, followed by his shaft, filling you up, deeper and deeper until his balls kiss your clit.

You let a deep moan pass your lips. Joel groans, hips leaving your ass, only to smack into them again as he fucks you even deeper from this position.

He’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, cock spearing into you, tears swelling across your half-shut eyes. The feeling, the pain, too good to ask him to stop, but so overwhelming you can feel every thought, every instinct, every other feeling, leave your body with every thrust.

Joel’s all you know. He’s all you want to know.

Your legs start to give, and he places his rough hands on your waist to hold you up, pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace.

“Joel…” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m there, too.”

You feel his weight pushing on the back of your thighs and open your eyes to see him leaning over you, hands placed either side of your head. You lace your fingers with his and let him fuck you, totally mindless to everything around you except for the man at your ass, pummeling his dick inside you so deep your cunt is aching.

It pushes you over the edge.

Your walls squeeze his dick, threatening to pull him over with you. Your vision blanks for the third time tonight; what energy you have left is poured into the filthy cry which escapes your lips as Joel’s hard cock splits you open.

“So tight, baby, good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel begins to falter, his thrusts become sloppy, and he pushes your ass off of him so not to finish inside you. You kinda feel disappointed, wishing he’d just stay inside and fill you to the brim with his cum.

Joel gives himself a couple more strokes before you feel his seed coat your ass, warm, dripping down the small of your back and the underside of your thighs.

You moan at the feeling of him spilling all over you, the grunts he lets slip as his orgasm washes over him. You smile dumbly at the thought that you’re the one doing this to him; you’re the one covered in his cum. You’re his, even if it’s only in this moment.

He’s panting behind you. He almost collapses on top of your back, propping himself on his elbows to keep some of his weight off.

He gently leans down and nuzzles his nose against your ear, eliciting a quiet giggle from you.

“You okay?” he breathes.

You nod. “Better than okay.”

“You sore?”

“A little.”

“Baby…” he coos, and pushes himself up.

You sigh as his weight leaves you, and you hear his footsteps pad into the kitchen. You stay put, in part to keep from staining Joel’s couch with…well, Joel, but mostly because you’re too fucked-out to even move. Too fucked to feel your thighs, your back, never mind between your legs.

Joel returns with paper towel, and softly wipes from your back to your thighs, cleaning up his mess. He massages your muscles as he goes, and your eyes shut over with the sweet feeling.

When he’s done, he rolls you over and takes hold of your ankle, pulling you down the leather to his grasp, where he puts his tee over your head and helps you feed your arms through the sleeves. The Rangers logo sits just below your chest.

He pulls his boxers back on, before taking your outstretched arms and scooping you up in his. Your head falls limp in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

He carries you, completely dazed and fucked, out of the living room and upstairs. He makes a right at the top, down the dim hallway, past the same closet he went down on you in just two days ago, toward a door at the end. He knocks it open and takes you through.

Even in your half-sleeping state, you know exactly where you are. You’re in Joel’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here before, maybe only a couple times, when Sarah’s needed something or you’ve accompanied your dad to help repair something for Joel, but it feels different now.

It’s dark, the sun almost set on the other side of the house and the streetlights’ glow a burning orange right above Joel’s headboard.

He carries you over to the left side of the bed and lays you down in his soft sheets. He tucks you under the comforter and bends to place a long, tender kiss on top of your head.

You begin to swim in and out of sleep, waking to find him folding your clothes into a neat pile by the bedside, then again to watch him set a glass of water on the nightstand.

Your eyes are glued shut with exhaustion when you feel him lift the duvet behind you and slip in, taking your waist under his forearm and pulling you flush against his frame.

You listen to the faint sound of a cell phone dialing, and then hear his voice; soft, hushed, but still normal Joel.

“Hey, man. Yeah, no, everything’s fine. We were pretty late finishin’ up with these decorations, and then The Shining was on TV, so we stayed up to watch it. She’s pretty exhausted. I let her take Sarah’s room, I hope that’s okay?”

Your dad’s voice is faint down the line as you begin to drop off in Joel’s arms.

“Sure thing, thanks, Joel. You kick her out first thing, you hear? Don’t want her holdin’ you up for gettin’ Sarah.”

When you hear him slide his cell back onto his nightstand, you mumble something incoherent into his arm.

“What, darlin’?” Joel asks, head lifting to hear you better.

“I said, great welcome home party. Thanks.”

His lips press lightly on your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. Whatever it is he says, you don’t hear it, already long gone to a deep, comfortable sleep.

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 8 months

Text

Pairing : Bangchan x F!Reader TW : unexpected pregnancy ; Chan is unknowingly (to him) an asshole ; relationship doubts ; a surprise visit from ATEEZ's Hongjoong ; a lot of angst ; and a nice little nana cliffhanger ; Word Count : 4.4k Request : Yes! By a lot of people! A/N : Back to the good stuff!! Angsty Dad Bangchan coming up!! Lets go!!!

A family of your own… It was all you had ever wanted, and surprisingly enough, Chan was fully onboard, sharing that he had similar dreams and that he wanted nothing more than to make those dreams come true with you.

That’s why, when your period didn’t come at all for two months straight, you were more than happy, and maybe a little bit nervous, to run to the nearest corner store and grab a pack-or three-of pregnancy tests just to see if that gut feeling you had was right.

It’s amazing how the validation of two pink lines can completely change the way a person feels. One second you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub hoping to see those lines, and then you watch them appear as if like magic, and it’s like your entire world and your whole view of it changes, it becomes brighter, clearer, and you get this warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach that can only be described as the feeling of spring, everything in full bloom and the sun beating down and everything is just… Beautiful.

You were too excited, you couldn’t possibly wait for Chan to get home, so you sent him a quick text. “Call me as soon as you’re able to. I love you!” You sent it, and in less than a second your phone was vibrating atop the toilet seat. “What’s wrong? You’re alright?” He asked quickly, and you realized only now that your text was probably slightly worrisome, so you took a moment to calm him, to let him know that you were safe and that you were more than alright.

“I haven’t gotten my period in two months… You know that…” You started off, and he hummed softly to let you know that he was listening and following along. “I finally went down to the store and got myself some tests…” You continued, and you heard the lack of breathing from his end, he was waiting for you to say it, to say something. “Babe… I’m pregnant!” You practically squealed, and you heard a loud thump from his end and a muffled groaning and then someone else in the background asking if he was alright.

“You shoulda told me to stand up before you told me that! You’re serious!? I’m gonna be a dad?! Are you sure?!” The excitement that you felt was shared, you could hear it in his voice, and you could only laugh at how giddy he actually sounded. “Do you want me to come home? I can leave right now! Baby, I’m so happy! How am I supposed to keep working? I wanna come home!”

He was rambling, and it was honestly so cute that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. If there was anyone in the world that you knew would make an amazing father, it was him. You weren’t even fully pregnant yet and he already wanted to be home with you, you knew that you had someone that you could depend on throughout your pregnancy, someone that would be there with you, for you, through it all. “S’alright, babe. You don’t have to rush home now, it’s not like I’m in labor or anything. I just couldn’t wait to tell you. You can get back to work now, sorry for interrupting.”

He gasped loudly, a jumbled mess of sounds coming incoherently from his mouth before he spoke an actual sentence. “You expect me to be able to get back to work after hearing that?! Baby, I wanna come home and be with you! I wanna celebrate! The album can wait, and I know that Jisung and Bin can take care of what I have left for the day anyway. I’m comin’ home now.”

The excitement was sky high for the first two months, he’d call off work completely just to be with you for doctors appointments, he’d hold those little ultrasound images close to him as if they were the most precious pictures on the face of the earth right now. He was attached to you, and you truthfully didn’t mind it, especially since those two months had given you the brunt of all of your symptoms. He was right there with you though, telling you how amazing you were, how good you were doing, how happy he was that you were carrying his child and how he couldn’t wait to meet his little jellybean.

By the third month, it seemed like the novelty wore off, although not completely, not yet at least. He became a little distant, not entirely, but he certainly wasn’t clinging onto you as he had been before. You simply assumed that he was just keeping you in mind since you were constantly sweating, your body temperature felt like you had been sitting in the summer sun for hours, although the doc said that was quite normal actually. Maybe he just thought that you didn’t want him constantly hanging on to you as he had been, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong in thinking that.

It wasn’t until the fourth month when you realized just how distant he had truly become. It almost seemed like he had just gotten bored of it, his initial reaction seeming more and more like a dream with each passing day. He’d give you a kiss goodbye in the morning, but the lingering touches that used to drift along your stomach were long gone, it was almost as if the bigger you got, the more he just… didn’t care. That hurt, more than you’d like to admit.

Even still, you tried to make excuses for him. He had been working so hard on the album, and now that it was finally announced to the public, he was more stressed than ever. That had you questioning though whether he truly thought of what it would be like to have a child. There was a lot of responsibility, and while you knew that you could do it yourself if needed, you didn’t want to, not when the two of you both discussed this and in the beginning, he made it seem like this was what he wanted as well.

Although Chan was acting the way he was, you were still beyond joyful, especially now that the most important scan was coming up. You’d finally be able to find out the gender of your little jellybean, and from day one, since he had found out, he said that this appointment was the one he was most excited for as well. There was something so magical about finding out the gender of the tiny little human that you were growing inside of you, and you wanted Chan to be there to share in the magic with you.

“You’re already ready, that’s great!” You chimed as you stepped out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to head out, and you saw Chan standing in the kitchen fully dressed as well sipping on a cup of coffee as he scrolled through his phone. He glanced up at you, his eyebrow arching in confusion as he looked you over, and you hoped, you silently prayed that he was just joking with you right now. “The doctors appointment is today… It’s the gender scan… I told you that.”

You tried to keep your voice as light as possible, but the slight tremor was heard by you, and you were sure that it was heard by him as well. “Ah shit… That’s today? Why would you schedule it for today? You know we have an interview today.” He was… scolding you… As if it were your fault that the appointment that you had made a month in advance had fallen on the same day of an interview that you hadn’t a single clue was going on. “You’re gonna have to catch a ride there or something, I don’t have the time to drive across town and make it back to the studio in time.”

He was choosing an interview over you… over the baby. It was shocking to say the least, and it felt like his words alone had ripped your heart straight from your chest, but what was worse was the way he was looking at you as if this was somehow all your fault. “Right… Sorry…” You mumbled, not wanting to get into an argument with him right now solely because you didn’t want to smudge your makeup with the tears that you knew he’d cause.

“It’s fine I guess… Just… Think a little more, yeah?” He gave you a meek smile as he walked past you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before rushing to the door. “I’ll probably be a little late coming home today. The guys all want to go out and celebrate the upcoming release so… I’ll probably just stay at the dorms tonight.” It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose, creating this unimaginably large space between himself and you… Or maybe it was himself and the baby, although you weren’t sure why. What you did know though, was that it wasn’t fair, not to you, and surely not to the baby.

Being with Chan had gave you contact to some other big stars in the business, and most people would assume that you were happy about it solely because of their status, but you saw in people their best attributes, their soft sides, the sides of them that they hid from the cameras, the sides of them that made them more than just idols. One of those people happened to be Hongjoong, who had been the first person to come over and personally congratulate you and Chan when you told him you were pregnant. These past two months he had even become more invested in your pregnancy than Chan was. That’s why he was the first person you called.

“Am I bothering you? You’re not busy… Are you?” Were the first words out of your mouth as soon as he had picked up his phone. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, watching the time tick down, getting closer to your appointment, and you hated riding in a strangers car, it made you feel uncomfortable, and Chan knew that. You hated that he would willingly put you in the position to do something like that.

Hongjoongs soft chuckle came through your speaker, and you could hear the other guys in the background talking, but it seemed to grow distant as if he were going somewhere quieter to talk to you. “You’re never a bother, honey.” He cooed out the pet name, one that Chan had said on multiple occasions that he hated, but old habits die hard, and you knew that Hongjoong meant nothing by it. “What’s up? Are you having another craving? I can get you whatever you need.”

God, you wished it were that simple, but you scoffed, shaking your head as if he could see it. “No… I have a doctors appointment, and I need to get there but… Chan had an interview with the guys today and he needed to be there for it. I just need a ride…” Your voice trembled as you said the words, and for some reason, you felt ashamed having to ask another man for help when your boyfriend, the father of your child, was fully capable of getting you to your appointment and just chose not to.

“Is he gonna meet you there?” He quizzed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to verbally answer his question, at least, not with words, so you let out a dejected sigh that gave him all the answers he needed. “Alright, let me just get my shoes on and I’ll come pick you up. We’ll make it there in time. Do you want me to stay in there with you? We can go get something to eat when it’s done.” He knew that you wouldn’t turn down food, so you agreed to his offer, a smile slowly returning to your face as you finally relaxed against the couch cushions.

“You’re a lifesaver, Joongie. Thank you so much.” You chirped, and you heard him laugh again, the sound of it almost contagious. You weren’t sure what you would have done if he wasn’t able to, but then again, Hongjoong would come help you at the drop of a dime simply because he cared about you. Chan saw it differently, but then again, if it weren’t for Hongjoong, you wouldn’t be making it to your appointment today, so in your eyes, he had no right to be jealous or upset about it.

“A girl!” Hongjoong exclaimed, his eyes brightening as a wide smile spread across his face. Not even Chan had gotten this excited during the last two visits, it was a nice change of pace, and a very welcomed change of atmosphere. “That’s so exciting, honey. I’m so happy!” He continued, grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

The nurse who had been wiping the gel off your stomach confusedly looked between you and Hongjoong, clearly wondering why Chan wasn’t there, and why this new man seemed more happy about the gender reveal than the actual father would have been, but you didn’t have the time to go into details about how your entire dream seemed to be spiraling, so you focused your attention on Hongjoong entirely. “Are we celebrating at my favorite restaurant?” You teasingly asked, and when his mouth fell open, you were about to backtrack and let him know you were joking, until his head fervently nodded.

“Of course! Where else would I take you to celebrate, huh? My honeys deserve the best!” He looked at the nurse who only seemed more and more confused the more he spoke, but he didn’t seem to mind it, giving her a warm smile. “Is she done? I don’t want her to be hungry… Did you eat this morning?” He glanced down at you and you shook your head which had him looking back up at the nurse for the answer to his first question.

Once the nurse gave you the okay that you were done and printed out the ultrasound pictures, Hongjoong grabbed your purse and helped lead you out of the office, his hand wrapped around your waist almost protectively as you rode down the elevator to get to the first floor. “Thank you for coming with me… It’s so embarrassing to be in there alone sometimes and… Seeing all the other couples kind of makes me sad.” You always felt like you could be so open with him, he was so understanding, and he always listened to everything that you had to say. It was nice to have someone like that in your life, someone unbiased that wouldn’t always take the side of Chan, and while you loved the other guys, they would always lean more towards their leader.

“If you ever need someone to go with you, if Bangchan can’t make it, you can always call me. Remember that, honey. I’m always here for you.” He reassured you, his hand moving from your waist to your lower back as he led you out of the elevator. “You think I can have one of the pictures though? It’s so neat to actually see her, I wanna show all of the guys.” You nodded your head, climbing into the passenger seat and fishing the row of pictures out of your purse to look through them again. “Looks like she has your nose…” Hongjoong mused as he leaned over the console to look at the pictures with you before playfully tapping the tip of your nose. “She’s gonna be adorable, just like you.”

He always gave you a warm feeling, but you attributed that to his friendliness and how kind he was, but now, sitting next to him in the car after sharing such an important moment with him, looking him in the eyes… You didn’t know if that feeling stopped there… And you felt guilty for that. Maybe it was just because you were upset with Chan and your mind was trying to find some other source of happiness… It felt wrong though. “Thanks… Joongie.” You murmured, dropping your gaze down to your lap as you fumbled with the edge of the blouse you were wearing. You couldn’t let your mind continue with those thoughts… It wouldn’t be right… Chan was your boyfriend, and you were sure that Hongjoong was simply being kind to you. That’s all it was…

“You keep ordering more stuff for her when you know she’ll just grow out of it by the second month.” Chan grumbled when he heard the knock on the door, his annoyance with your online baby shopping becoming more and more evident with each package that came in. It’s not like you were spending his money though, you were still working for the time being, at least while you could. “You’re wasting your money.” He continued as you grabbed your phone to see which package could have possibly been delivered today.

The door knocked again, and now you both were confused because, even if it was a package delivery, they would have only knocked once to let you know that the package was delivered and then went about their day. That, and the fact that you hadn’t gotten any notifications or updates that anything you had ordered was out for delivery. “Well it’s not for me, maybe it’s a new piece of equipment for your studio.” You said, refusing to get up off the couch considering the fact that it took you almost 15 minutes to get comfortable now that you were getting bigger.

He rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up off the couch, mumbling something under his breath about not being able to enjoy a day off. “Look, whatever you’re selling, we’re not interes…ted…-” He trailed off as the door was opened and an excited Hongjoong stood there holding a pastel pink bag with even more pink tissue paper sticking out of the top. “What are you doing here?” Chan asked, looking down at the bag and then back up at Hongjoong who was still wearing the biggest and brightest smile, looking past Chan to spot you.

“I came to see my honey.” Hongjoong stated as if it were a known fact that he was going to drop by, but neither you or Chan knew he was coming, but for you, it was a welcome surprise. “Can I come in?” He asked, and before Chan could say no, you were getting up off the couch to go meet him at the door instead. “You’re getting so big… In the most beautiful way, honey.” He cooed, looking you over with heart eyes and pink tinged cheeks.

“Thank you, Joongie…” You whispered, feeling shy under his gaze, but Chans glare had tension filling the air. “Who’s the present for?” You asked, trying to change the subject, and Hongjoong took that as his queue to come inside, going straight past Chan and wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you to the couch.

The door was slammed shut, and Chans presence alone, even if you couldn’t see him standing behind the couch, you could just feel him there. He was hovering, and you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him in waves. “I was at the store and I walked past this outfit, I just thought it would look adorable on little honey pot.” He placed the bag down the floor in front of you and reached out to press his hand against your stomach, chuckling lightly when he felt the baby kick against his palm. “She still hasn’t settled down since you texted me, has she? Don’t worry though, I brought what you said you were craving, maybe that’ll settle her down.”

You heard Chan huff behind you, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth causing you and Hongjoong both to turn around and look at him. “Oh, don’t let me distract you. Just wondering why you’re buying clothes for my daughter and food for my pregnant girlfriend when I’m literally right here.” His tone was sharp when he said it, and while you had understood the hint, it either went right over Hongjoongs head or he just decided to ignore it.

“Well I already said why I bought the outfit.” Hongjoong said casually, leaning back on the couch and draping his arm over your shoulder, glancing over his own to keep his eyes on Chan. “And Y/N sent me a text earlier saying that she was kind of uncomfortable because the baby can't seem to sit still, so I thought that I’d bring her her favorite snack. I don’t see anything wrong with that…” He turned to look at you. “Do you?”

The air felt so thick, you could barely breathe, but truthfully, you didn’t see a problem with Hongjoong helping you out, so you shook your head no. “I really appreciate you coming over and bringing me these things. Thank you, Joong. It means a lot.” You gave him a warm smile, and he leaned in to press a quick peck to your temple.

It was a shock to you, but what was more shocking, what had you practically jumping out of your seat was the sound of Chans hands slapping against the back cushion of the couch. “I need to talk to my girlfriend and you-” He pointed to Hongjoong, not even caring at the moment just how rude the gesture was. “You need to leave.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a demand, and for the first time since Hongjoong had been there, it seemed like he was finally getting the hint.

That didn’t stop him from grabbing your hands and looking at you with his dark, almost black eyes, that looked at you so softly right now, with so much concern. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked, ignoring Chan completely at this point, his thumb brushing over your knuckles to try to keep your attention on him. You quickly nodded your head, and while he didn’t believe it, he couldn’t really do much either. “Text me if you need me, you know I’m always here for you, honey.”

Chan didn’t have to lead him to the door, Hongjoong went there himself, and you really wished that you could have gone with him because now you were the direct target of Chans anger, his eyes like daggers staring right through you. “You wanna tell me why some other guy is buying clothing for my child? Why he’s going out and getting my girlfriends snacks? I’ve been here all fucking day and you haven’t said shit to me! I could have gotten the food for you!”

It was jealousy, that’s all it was, and it was so hypocritically funny that you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh for fucks sake, Chan. You haven’t spent a fucking dime on her! You don’t give a shit about me or the baby. Don’t pretend to start now just because your ego is bruised.” You snapped back, and you watched as he shook his head, his eyes narrowing even more now.

“Is she even mine?! Why should I spend any of my money on her!? You’ve got Hongjoong out here acting like he’s the one who fucking knocked you up!” You blinked a few times, letting his words fully process in your head. He was not only accusing you of cheating on him, but accusing another guy of fathering his baby. Surely it must be guilt, knowing that you were right, but that didn’t make you any less pissed off.

“Do you ever think he’s acting that way because he feels bad?” You asked, and Chans face scrunched up as he let out a scoff. “No. I’m being serious right now, Christopher.” He was shaking his head, his body already turning to walk away, and that was the icing on the cake, the final straw. “He’s doing what you refuse to do! I never asked him to do that, he just did because you’ve been blowing off doctors appointments, you… you treat her like a mistake and a burden and she’s not even here yet! You don’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m pregnant anymore unless it’s something that you have a problem with! I needed some kind of fucking emotional support while I go through this, and you sure as hell haven’t been supportive at all! He was there when I needed him… When you decided that your job is more important than the child that you created.”

He stopped in the middle of the room, you could see how tense he was, his back muscles stiff under the tight black shirt that he was wearing. “Then why don’t you just go be with him since he’s better than me anyway?” He posed. You could hear how heavily he was breathing, you could see it in the way his shoulders rose and fell quickly. He was furious, although you weren’t sure who with at this point.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll text him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” And maybe it was the heat of the moment making you say it, but deep down, you knew you didn’t mean it. Chan was the father of your daughter, he was the love of your life, and even after months of him blowing you off, the future that you imagined with your daughter still had him in it. You wanted to spend your life with him.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. So just text him. Just fucking go.” He said flatly, storming off into the shared bedroom and slamming the door behind him. The last thing you wanted to do was go into the bedroom and try to talk to him, you didn’t even want to go in there to get your clothes, so you got up and walked out the front door, running right into Hongjoong who had been standing outside and listening to everything.

Chan watched through the blinds in the bedroom, watching as Hongjoong led you to his car, helping you in before gently closing the door behind you and then climbing in. He watched and he waited for you to climb back out, but then the car started backing up… And then it pulled off. He had just forced you into the arms of the very person that he was terrified would take you away… All because he was jealous, and he had gotten so distracted with work… He had fucked everything up. The future that he had built with you in his dreams, that he imagined and drew out… It was all thrown out the window and he had been the one to throw it.

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urrockstar-xe · 6 months

Text

i'll be right there, sweetheart - tasm!p.parker x fem!reader

posted nov 4th, 2023 12:50 am

i wrote this with one of my closest friends :D i needed andrew!peter and i needed comfort! i hope u like it as much as we do :)

summary: when reader gets into another argument with her brother, she needs her amazing spiderman to come and save her

masterlist

wordcount: 1.2k

“Can I come over?” your hushed and choked tone of voice had Peter standing up from the building ledge he had been sitting on, in seconds.

“Stay put, baby I’ll come to you, where are you? At home?” His voice was rushed but you could hear it fine considering the whooshing of the wind was heard in the background,

he was already swinging to your place.

“No, no, Pete, I need to come to yours I don’t want to be home right now, I got into another argument with my brother I just wanna see you, is that okay?”

Peter’s heart nearly stopped at the sound of your choked sob as you spoke, crumbling at just the sound of you crying, he was already worrying about the sight.

“Of course it's okay, sweetheart, I’m gonna come get you though alright? Meet on the roof?”

Through sniffles, you mumbled back a barely coherent “okay” to Peter as you had already started making your way to the roof of your apartment building, sighing at the sight of your spandex-clad boyfriend swinging through the city, still too far from you to hang up.

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart, just wait for me okay? Hey! Look at that I see you! I mean i think, you’re still a little far” You couldn’t help but giggle at Peter’s words, you could practically hear his smile when you laughed.

“It’s me, Pete” you responded, walking closer to the edge in hopes it would make the wait seem shorter.

“Yeah, it is, I know m’girl when I see her, I’m right here baby, I’m comin'” his constant reassurance of coming to be there for you had your heart swelling and almost willed more tears to form in your eyes as you hung up the phone when you saw that Peter was only a building away.

And there he was, his mask was tugged off the second his feet landed on the rooftop floor, hair messy and face red from the cold as he pulled you into a tight embrace, “I’m here baby, told you I’d be here” he mumbled into your hair, setting his hand on the back of your head as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m just so tired of the same fight, Pete” you cried, the words Peter had only ever read through text messages after you had similar situations like this but none to the point where you needed to get out of there.

“I know, honey, I got you” Peter rubbed your back soothingly, pressing a few sweet kisses to your hairline before squeezing your frame once more. “Freezin' out here, let’s you get back to my place, yeah? May made meatloaf for dinner” you giggled into his shoulder, sniffling as you pulled back to put your arms around his neck and brace yourself to swing through the city.

“I hate meatloaf” you quietly said into his neck as he gripped your waist properly,

As he put his mask back on, Peter chuckled, “I know you do, honey”

Without warning Peter started swinging, it was worse when you had a warning, gave you more time to overthink it and Pete definitely wasn’t risking that tonight of all nights.

He could hardly feel your grip tighten but you felt his tighten every time he shot a new web until finally, he reached his window

This was the tricky part, getting inside his room with you in his arms, it typically ended in you hitting your head or Peter tripping the second he got inside, but this time he was as careful as he had ever been as if you were fragile, delicate, and at this point in time? you were, not that you’d admit it but you didn’t have to admit it with Peter.

he just knew.

Peter carefully slid the window up, helping you get your feet in and stand up straight before climbing inside himself, once more taking his mask off but it was soon followed by his entire suit as he rushed around his room to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. You just stood there for the most part, other than closing his window so he wouldn’t freeze while he was half-naked and running around for clothes.

Any other time you’d make yourself at home, settle into his bed, even stroll downstairs, and say hi to May, but again, this time was different, you felt like you couldn’t move, not without Peter’s help anyway.

Peter of course caught onto this quite fast which was why he was so dead set on rushing back to you as fast as possible even if you were both still in the same room, the old Midtown High hoodie was barely over his head before he had swooped you up back into his arms and laid you down on his bed, nearly crushing you with his body weight.

Your hands found his hair in seconds, to anyone else this looks like you’re comforting him, but to you, this is exactly why weighted blankets exist.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly, gently running his fingers up and down your arm.

“No, thank you”

Peter took note of the way your voice was still so quiet as if you would burst into tears again if you spoke any louder, “Okay, baby”

He sat up just enough to see your face in full, ever so careful, he wiped the few remaining tears from your cheeks, along with the dried streaks that had been caused by the cold wind.

“Did you eat? I can make you somethin?” you just shook your head in response before pulling him back down closer to you, “no? Okay, okay this works too” he mumbled into your shoulder, then he suddenly gasped as if he just remembered something.

“What happened?” You asked, concern in your voice as he sat up, ignoring your question you watched as Peter quickly untied your Converse and pulled them off of your feet, carelessly tossing them somewhere in his room before he laid beside you, this time pulling you into him, running his fingers across your shoulders and entangling your legs.

Peter was once again thankful for the prototype web shooter he had been too lazy to move from his nightstand as he used it to shut off the light without getting up from the comfort of his bed or your arms.

You two laid like this in a comforting silence for a few moments, Peter rubbing your back, your hands repetitively moving from his side and to his chest, he kept thinking you’d pull back to say something but you never did.

Not until after a few more minutes and you sighed, getting your boyfriend’s attention once more.

“What is it, baby?” he whispered, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment you were sharing.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, sounding unsure, Peter frowned, but he let you continue before commenting. “Thank you for coming to get me” was what you settled on for now.

A billion things ran through your mind, all different ways to show your gratitude for Peter but all that came out was a simple thanks, not that Peter minded.

“‘M just glad you’re okay” he whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“I just don’t know what I’d do without you” You sighed once more after you spoke, gripping the material of his hoodie.

Peter smiled, “It’s a damn good thing you don’t have to worry about that then huh?”

Moving his hand down to your thigh, he moved it completely over his own, bringing you impossibly closer.

“I’ll always be right there, sweetheart”

#tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #the amazing spider man #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #Spotify

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no-fate-but-what-we-make · 1 year

Text

Behind Closed Doors | Fezco

Description: you’re with Fezco in bed when Rue shows up and bangs on his door. Set in Euphoria season 1, episode 3

Pairing: Fezco x Female!Reader

A/N: The moment I first saw this scene, I knew I wanted to write something with it, but I never got around to it until now. Gif isn't mine - all credit to the creator. Enjoy xo

Warnings: drug mentions, addiction

- - -

The sound of a fist banging on the door to Fezco’s house shook you out of your nap. “Mm, what is it, Fez?” You asked, still sleepy, stretching and turning over to face him.

“I don’t know.” Fez sighed, pulling you into him for a quick kiss. “Maybe they’ll go away if we wait long enough.”

The incessant banging continued and after a few more seconds, your boyfriend let out an annoyed grunt and shifted to get out of bed. You watched, a lazy smile on your face as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and threw it on. “Be right back.”

You didn’t necessarily try to hear, but the walls in the house could be thin so it wasn’t hard to eavesdrop on conversations.

“Who is it?” You heard Fezco ask as he walked into the living room. The door squeaked as he opened it, and you could only imagine who was on the other side. One of his clients, no doubt. “Not today, Rue. Sorry.”

Rue. Your chest constricted at hearing the younger girl’s name. You’d seen her around school before you’d graduated, and had met her a couple times since whenever she showed up asking for drugs. From the rumors, her drug habit was one of the worst out of all of Fezco’s clients, and that was seriously saying something.

“C’mon man, don’t be a dick.” The window was open, a fact you hadn’t realized until now, and you could hear the hurt in her strung-out voice.

“Nah, I’m serious. You can’t come in.”

You and Fezco had just been talking about how he wanted to set firmer boundaries with his clients and you knew this was going to be one of the hardest. He saw Rue like a little sister, and always took special care when it came to her - any other girl would be jealous of the relationship, but you saw it for what it was: guilt mixed with some fucked up version of platonic love. When the news broke that Rue had been carted off to rehab after a very nasty OD where she almost died, Fezco had been inconsolable for almost a week. Ashtray had done a majority of the deals that week and you still weren’t sure what he’d told the buyers.

“Look, man, all I- all I need is just a few OCs-”

“Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Fez? Fez? I’ve had a really fucked up day, alright? It’s been a really really fucked up day, so I need you to open the door for me, okay? Can you open the door, please?” The desperation in her voice had tears pricking the back of your eyes. You knew that tone of voice well, memory taking you back to your dead, alcoholic mother when she’d beg you to go buy booze with the fake she’d had made for you specifically for that purpose. Addiction was a hell of a drug.

“I ain’t gon’ help you kill yourself, Rue.” His silence was deafening. “I’m sorry but you can’t be comin’ over here no more. Just go home.”

“Don’t! Fez, don’t close the-” you heard the click of the door. “Fuck! Fez-” Rue banged her fist against the storm door, “open the fucking door, please? I’m begging you, just open the door.” In a flash, you were off your feet and heading down to the front door. When you got there, all you could see was his back, his forehead resting on the now-closed door. You wasted no time, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek in-between his shoulder blades as you held him tight. He took a shuddering inhale, bracing himself for Rue’s next words.

“Fez! You’re full of shit, man. You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers, and now all of a sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground?! You’re a fucking dropout drug dealer. You know that? You’re a fucking dropout drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells. OPEN THE DOOR! Fuck you! Fuck you Fez okay? Are you doing this because you care about me ? If you gave a shit about me you wouldn’t have sold me the fucking drugs in the first place but you did! You fucking did so open the goddamn door! Open the door!”

During Rue’s rant, Fez had turned around, his eyes meeting yours in one of the most tortured expressions you’d ever seen on his face. You hugged him again, your arms winding around his neck as you let him bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“I can’t do it-” He whispered against your skin, and you couldn’t fathom how Rue had heard him, but she responded like she had.

“Open the door, open the door, open the door!” The silence was heartbreaking, but you were currently torn between comforting Fez and fighting Rue for what she’d said to him even though you knew it was no use when an addict was like this. “Open the door. You did this to me! You fucking- you did this to me, Fez. You fucking ruined my life. The least you could do is open the goddamn door! I’m so serious I’m so fucking serious. If you don’t open this door right now I swear to god, I will hate you til the day I fucking die.”

“I’m sorry.”

She let out a heart-wrenching wail and smacked her fists against the storm door. “You fucking did this to me! Open the door! Open the door, Fez! C’mon man…”

Wordlessly, you took Fez’s hand and led him back to the bedroom, the sound of Rue banging on the door for far too long until she tired herself out and left.

The two of you had laid in silence and you waited without expectation until he began to speak. “I just…don’t know how to help her, ya know?” Fez murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

“She’s an addict, Fez. And you’re a dealer. You can’t control what she does and you have to let her fail on her own. It sucks but there’s only so much you can do.”

“I know.” He sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for being here.” After a while, Fez finally fell asleep in your arms, his breathing finally evening out after an exhausting encounter. You tucked him into bed, curling up into his side as you tried to get some sleep of your own.

#fezco x reader #fezco x you #fezco x female!reader #fezco fanfiction #fezco fanfic #fezco imagines #fezco imagine #fezco oneshot #fezco one shot #fezco angst #euphoria fanfiction #euphoria imagines

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sethsclearwater · 20 days

Note

poly!paulxreaderxjared where they're just fucking her brains out and reader is whining about them being too big but they're not having any of it and fucking her senseless

these two are NUTS

...

"c'mon babe," jared mused with a laugh, taking your hips into his hands so he could manhandle you into straddling paul's bare waist, both boys already well aware of how quickly you had managed to fall into the subspace tonight.

paul chuckled when he saw the way you were looking at him, tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks as you tried to handle the frustration of not being able to cum.

both boys had managed to edge you all day long, each taking their sweet time messing with your head just enough to have you teetering on the edge of falling into the subspace so they could have their way with you tonight.

almost as soon as you had gotten home from emily's and they had you undressed, you were a blubbering sobbing mess as you tried to explain how badly you wanted to cum. neither boy was too phased by your tears, already beyond used to seeing you like this nearly every time they tag teamed you.

"'m comin' bun," paul reassured, grabbing his hardened cock and lining it up with your soaked entrance while jared held your hips up, both knowing you weren't in any kind of shape to be on top without their support.

before you could sob out something about him taking too long, jared was pulling your hips down and sheathing paul inside your pussy. paul dropped his head back with a groan, his hands sliding onto your thighs and gripping them tightly while you let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion.

you were immediately moving to lift your hips up but jared held you in place, "'s too much-" you blubbered, sniffling as you peeked over your shoulder to see jared chuckling and rolling his eyes.

"you're fine babe, takin' him so well aren't you?" he asked, sliding one releasing one of his hands' grips on your hip in favor of cupping your face in his hand, using the pad of his thumb to brush away some of the stray tears.

"good?" you repeated back to jared, voice barely above a whisper which had him humming and nodded, barely containing his laughter over how quickly you managed to change your mind about having paul's cock so quickly pressed inside your pussy.

"such a good girl," jared reassured, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, "now lay down on paul, yea? i wanna fuck you too," he mused, laughing when you let out a low whine.

he released your jaw so you could turn your attention to the man currently buried inside you, "c'mere bunny," paul cooed, letting out a breathy laugh when you quickly complied and laid down on his chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around you tightly.

"your pussy feels like heaven," paul praised, pressing his lips to your hairline as he felt the way your tight walls were desperately clenching and unclenching around him as you worked to accommodate his intrusion.

"alright jared's comin' now, okay?" paul asked as jared finished lubricating his cock, pumping it a few times before he was teasingly dragging the tip along your stuffed entrance.

you let out a low whine, burying your face in the crook of paul's shoulder which had both boys laughing again, "you got it babe," jared reassured, both him and paul plenty confident in your ability to take them both.

"deep breath for me bunny," paul murmured, stroking one hand up and down your back soothingly as both boys waited for you to inhale, jared pressing his cock into your walls when you exhaled.

at the intrusion, both men let out a loud groan and you let out another loud, muffled whine into paul's shoulder which had both jared and paul rolling their eyes. you had quite literally been begging to have both boys inside you all day so to say you were being dramatic was the understatement of the year.

despite your dramatics, paul praised you anyways, "takin' our cocks like such a good girl, aren't you bun?" he asked, smiling when you sniffled and nodded.

you lifted your head from his shoulder for a moment, "bein' a good girl," you reassured, voice hushed.

jared offered your hips a gentle squeeze, "such a good girl," he cooed, leaning down to press his lips to your shoulder.

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gogh-with-the-flow · 3 months

Text

Part 4 of cheating!Soap. Simon's POV. Angst. Potentially ooc Simon.

---

Simon Riley is a bad man. He wasn't given much of a choice really. He was dealt a bad hand that kept getting worse and worse. He tried to live a good life, despite his childhood, but it was all taken away from him in fire and blood. So he threw himself into it headfirst. He dove into it and found comfort in the fire and blood. He knew fire and blood. He's good at fire and blood.

Simon Riley is a lonely man. All his life, he's never had anyone. He keeps everyone he meets at arms-length at a minimum. He doesn't do love. He doesn't believe in it. The last time he tasted it was from his mother, and that taste has long since been replaced by the tinny taste of blood. He's comfortable being alone. He fills his time with work, and on the rare occasion he's sent back home to his barren flat in Manchester, the most he does is find a quick fuck at a pub.

He doesn't care about their names, he doesn't particularly care if they're a man or woman or something in between. He doesn't care what they look like, he hardly looks at them at all. They're just a means to an end for him. Just a warm hole to stuff himself into to feel good for a bit, to make his head quiet for a bit. He leaves once he's done. He never stays the night, never even stays much longer than to tie off his condom and pull his trousers back up.

It all changed when he met that damned spitfire of a man John MacTavish. Goes by the name 'Soap'. A ridiculous nickname in Simon's opinion, but then again, he goes by Ghost, so he doesn't have much room to talk.

Soap is loud and brash, but he can be careful and focused, too. He's intensely loyal and has a deep sense of justice. He fights for what's right, Ghost has seen it. He makes the icy shell around Ghost's heart melt, ever so slightly.

It's a slow progression, the way Soap draws Ghost into his orbit. Ghost doesn't even fully realize its happened until Las Almas. There was a moment when he thought he lost Johnny- when did Soap become Johnny? They had gotten separated and Ghost waited for him. Ghost never waited. But he couldn't, in that moment, hiding out in a church with a whole militia after him, even fathom leaving Johnny behind.

By the time Simon realized he loved Johnny it was too late. Johnny was married. Simon hadn't noticed that when he read Soap's dossier years ago. It must have happened in the time they had known each other. Simon had never pinned Johnny as someone to keep his cards so close to his chest like that, but he was proved wrong.

Johnny didn't wear his ring in the field. It was a liability, not just to have jewelry on in life-or-death situations, but also for anyone to see he was married, be it friend or foe. He didn't find out until after Chicago. It seemed that Soap's near-death experience at the top of a skyscraper had shaken him more than he'd let on. He'd snuck off at the bar to use the payphone and Ghost had followed.

"Hey, its me... Just needed to hear your voice, bonnie... No, no, I'm alright, just a wee bit banged up... Yeah, I miss you too, lovie... No I promise I'm alright. Just got a bit worried the whole 'til death do us part' thing was comin' sooner than expected... Sorry, bonnie... No, no, you're right, it's not funny. I'm sorry... I'll be home in a few days... Yeah... I'll see you then. I love you."

Simon hated you. He hated you and he didn't even know you. He didn't even know you existed and he hated you. Who were you? Some civilian? Some random woman who decided to shack up with Johnny? Probably just chasing valor or benefits or something. What could you possibly have to offer someone like Johnny? You could never understand him the way Simon does. Their bond is forged in fire and blood. You could never hope to understand it. They'd been through hell together. And yet you've wormed your way in between them. You, a woman he doesn't even know, have ruined everything. But Simon, ever the stoic sentinel, keeps it all under wraps with practiced patience. He didn't survive this long by letting his emotions control him. He'll figure out a way to fix this.

Then several months later, Simon meets you. It's after another mission, and you're picking up Soap from base, who had gotten a mild concussion and couldn't drive himself. You're there, waiting for him with a lovesick smile on your face. Simon watches as you embrace Johnny, wrapping him in your arms and holding him for a long time. Too long, in Simon's opinion. And then you pull back and hold Soap's head in your hands, turning his face side to side to get a better look at him. You laugh at something he says. Simon sneers. Oh, aren't you just perfect? A sweet little doting wife?

And then Johnny brings you over to introduce you two. You shake Simon's hand with both of yours, gratitude broadcast to the world as you thank him for getting your Johnny home safe. Your Johnny. Simon hates it. He hates how sincere you are. He wishes you were something worse, something worth hating. But Ghost reads people. He's great at it. But he can't read anything but genuine in you. And it makes him hate you more.

It isn't fair, Simon thinks. You don't deserve someone like Johnny. You haven't earned him. You haven't fought for him like Simon has. You haven't fought alongside him like Simon has. Simon has suffered. His whole life has been nothing but blood and fire. Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Hasn't he earned it? Even the devil himself got to taste heaven before he fell to earth.

That's what he tells himself on that night. The night they were stuck in that frozen safe house in the middle of Bumfuck, Russia. They'd narrowly escaped the enemy, and they didn't dare poke their heads out for risk of being spotted. Soap's radio had broken in the escape. Ghost was the only one with a means to communicate with Watcher. She tells him exfil will be there in the morning. He unplugs his radio. He tells Soap he can't get through. He tells himself that he's justified. He's a devil seeking a taste of heaven.

And what is Johnny if not heaven? Simon needs him. He needs to taste him. Johnny is worried. Simon can feel it rolling off him in waves. Simon can make it all better for him. Just for tonight.

"Who knows when exfil's gonna get here?" He asks. "What do we have to lose? It's just for tonight. Just let me take care of you, Johnny."

Simon can feel the hesitation in Johnny's body when he kisses him. But Johnny let's Simon lay him down. Simon whispers words into Johnny's ear. Not quite words of reassurance. But Simon Riley is a bad man, and a lonely man, and those two things make a nasty combination.

Simon tastes every part of Johnny's body he can get his mouth on. Neither man has bathed in days, and a lesser man would be disgusted, but Simon has experienced far worse. Besides, nothing about Johnny could ever disgust him.

And when Johnny let's him inside, Simon, that devil, finally tastes his slice of heaven. A whole life of suffering was worth is just to feel Johnny beneath him. It's perfect, he thinks. Even if only for the night. Simon looks Johnny in the eye. Simon stays with him afterward. Simon sleeps beside him.

Then morning comes. Exfil comes. Regret comes for Johnny, but not for Simon. Maybe he shouldn't had lied about his radio, but it was worth it, wasn't it? But now Johnny won't look at him. He won't speak to him. He practically runs from him when they land.

No, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to fix things! It was supposed to fix what you had ruined! You, Soap's perfect wife with your perfect life, perfectly ruining Simon's. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon more. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon as much as Simon needed him. What happened? What went wrong? Simon blames you. He always blames you.

Simon calls Johnny late that night, after he's sure you must be in bed. He pleads with Johnny to come to his senses. It wasn't a mistake! How could he say that? How could he say that it was wrong when Simon had never felt so right in his whole life? It's your fault. You've got Johnny trapped under some kind of spell. You can't love him like Simon could, like Simon does. Simon changes tactics.

"You have to tell her," Simon tells him. Maybe if you know, you'll leave. Then Simon can have Johnny all to himself, without you getting in the way again. "The guilt will eat you up, it's better if you just tell her. Its the right thing to do." Johnny reluctantly agrees.

Simon waits for Johnny to call him the next night, to tell him you've kicked him out. He waits for the call so he can swoop in and be Johnny's rescuer. Maybe then Johnny will see how much he loves him. But Johnny never calls. Simon would be tearing his hair out with anxiety if it wasn't so close-cropped to his head. What's happened to him? He hasn't lost control of his emotions like this in years. What have you done to him?

Simon drives to Johnny's house. He watches from the curb through your window. Johnny's alone. Good. He has half a mind to walk up to the door when he sees you come around the corner. He watches you two talk. He watches you cry. Crocodile tears, they must be! Poor you, having your perfect life be derailed. Simon was justified. It's only fair that you suffer even a fraction that he has so he can take some of your perfect life for his own.

But then Johnny is holding you. Johnny is kissing you. No, no this isn't right! You should be screaming at him to leave! You should be beating Soap to a pulp so Simon can put him back together! Why won't you let him have this?

He watches Johnny carry you away. He forces himself to drive away before he does something he'll regret. He speeds the whole way home. He turns his apartment upside-down. In the back of his mind he's thankful he lives in a shit part of town where no one calls the cops unless someone is actually dead. No noise complaints as he shatters every mirror.

It's your fault he's losing control. You you would just let him have Johnny, it would all be fine. But you, you selfish bitch, want to keep Johnny all to yourself. Why? Because you've got a ring? Because you made a vow? Well, Simon makes a vow to himself. No matter how long it takes, he will make Johnny his.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley angst #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish angst

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pascal-princess · 11 days

Text

[ playing dangerous ]

a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be kind!! also not proofread so any mistakes i apologise.

— warnings : dark fic (18+), joel isn’t what you think in this, domestic abuse! (not joel), drugging, dom!joel, big!joel/small!reader, age gap (not mentioned but it’s there, around 26 years), kidnap if you squint ig. + plus tommy.

“Joel it’s all kickin’ off next door man”

Tommy’s voice filled his ears through the phone as he sighed… not again… surely.

“What this time?”

“It’s that dude, I ain’t gotta clue what his problem is but she’s gettin’ the brunt of it yet again” Tommy’s eyes scanned through the blinds that were peeled apart by his fingers, peering into your window trying to get a good visual of what was going on.

This had been going on for the past few months, your boyfriend Rick had a bad gambling addiction… and based on his results you’d either get pounded brutally into the bed as his victory celebration, despite your cries. Or… like today; a hissy fit which every time without fail, resulted in bruises and tears, as his anger at his loss seemed to be all your fault.

This time; tommy could hear the heavy thuds of furniture being thrown across rooms, and twinkles of glass that smashed beneath your feet. He could hear the soft whimpers and sobs that left your body as Rick practically screamed at you.

“it’s all your fault you fuckin’ bitch, you make me do this”

“Joel what do i do, man? I can’t jus’ leave er’”

“Stay where you are, I’m comin’ home”

Joel hung up the phone and got into his pick-up truck and began the short drive home; he knew you were a sweetheart, a soft innocent angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. You always smiled at him and even once baked him cookies, which he admired for a good few days before throwing his diet out the window, consuming the gooey chocolate chip delights you made. He couldn’t understand why you stayed, why you let Rick treat you the way he did. He also couldn’t understand how Rick could treat you such a way.

Maybe you were secretly an awful person, he thought… or hoped. Because the thought of someone as kind and caring as you receiving the exact opposite just because of the fact that you won’t fight back killed him inside. He refused to admit the feeling of jealousy that ached inside of him; but he often thought of what it’d be like to hold you at night, to be the man to make you smile, to wipe away your tears instead of being the dick that caused them.

His anger grew more and more as he approached his driveway, speeding up a bit as he swerved in and pulled to a halt, the tires screeching against the concrete. He threw open his door and made the short walk to your front porch, knuckles thumping against the wood as he waited for a response… that was when he realised… silence.

He banged again and called your name this time, willing you for a response. You could’ve heard a pin drop, and it was scaring him.

He was just about to kick the door down when he heard the lock of the door flick, and watched as it slowly peeled open, too slow.

“Joel?” your cracking voice called his name and he could’ve burst into tears himself.

“Sweetheart, ya’ alright?” he pushed open the door a little more to get a view of your face, and god he wished he hadn’t.

“Honey” He sighed, eyeing the swelling bruise that imprinted itself onto your cheek, the redness of your face from crying just intensifying it.

“Joel, please just go” you kept yourself hidden, yes, Rick was gone. He walked out as soon as he was finished releasing his stress, with the words “i’ll be back later” but you still felt the quivers of fear make their way through your body.

“I can’t do that, you know i can’t” His hands were placed on his hips as he scanned everywhere he could for more marks, and all he could see was bruises, old and new, littered across your arms. Even the softness of your feet covered in dried blood from stepping on the glass.

When that caught his eye he knew you needed attention.

“Right, you’re comin’ over so i can get ya cleaned up” He reached for your hand but you pulled back abruptly.

“I can’t, Joel. I can’t leave”

“Then i’ll carry you”

“You don’t get it!” you raised your voice a little louder to get the message across.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. But I ain’t gonna leave you alone right now so you either move, or I move ya myself”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t gonna let up, so you made the brave decision to step outside… wincing as your feet made contact with the hard stone below you. Joel was there right away, scooping you up into his arms and hoisting you on one side of his hip as his other hand closed your front door. He eyed you for a moment, making sure he wasn’t hurting you before making his way over to his house.

All the fear coursing through your veins dulled as you felt joel’s touch, he was much bigger than you which at the start intimidated you, but now all you wanted to do was crawl into his embrace and let him take care of your problems.

Joel was one of your favourite people; when you moved in you two immediately hit it off, becoming very quick friends. From what you heard from Tommy, Joel wasn’t the type of person to be overly nice to everyone he meets, but you were different. He would always help you out when you had issues with the plumbing or gas, as Rick was never interested in doing any of that. He would bring over leftovers for you as he knew you struggled to eat after a particularly bad fight. Basically anytime Rick wasn’t there, Joel was. Insisting on taking care of you when things went wrong. Helping you get out of bed, and brushing your hair for you on the worst days.

Tommy was already waiting with the front door open, allowing Joel inside as he carried you through the threshold.

“She alright?” Tommy asked and Joel nodded slightly, taking you through to the kitchen and perching you up on the counter, picking up your leg and inspecting your foot for the first time.

“You gotta’ start wearing shoes, sweetheart”

You gave a slightly amused breath at his words but he wasn’t laughing in the slightest. He was angry.

Angry at me? you thought

He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling out a first aid kit and making his way back to you, pulling a stool over and sitting in front of your legs, pulling your feet into his lap and getting to work with the antiseptic.

“ouch!” you winced as the stinging made its way through your body.

“I know babygirl, m’sorry. i’ll just be a little minute more and then you’re done, m’kay?”

That was another thing that was unusual with Joel, his affection towards you. It was clear that he cared about your feelings, maybe it was just because he knew that you didn’t get much at home… or maybe… just maybe…

“All done, sweet girl” you were pulled from your thoughts as he placed the bloodied cotton pads onto the counter beside you and you winced internally at how much blood there actually was. He picked up a thin bandage and began to wrap each of your feet. making sure the cuts were covered.

“Thank you” you spoke quietly, even when he was finished he still held your feet in his lap, the warmness and softness of his jeans bringing you comfort. It made you yawn and made your limbs stretch slightly.

“You tired?” he asked. You shook your head, you knew he’d have you sleep here if you asked but you didn’t want an excuse to stay any longer, on the off chance that Rick was already on his way home.

“I better get going” Joel’s hands held onto your hips as you slid down off the counter, your feet feeling way better touching the floor than before.

“She ain’t leavin’” Tommy’s voice interrupted the both of you, you turned to face the younger brother who was standing in the door way, essentially blocking your exit.

“I-I have to”

“No frickin’ way!” Tommy protested, raising his voice a bit.

“Tommy” Joel warned.

“No, absolutely not! You think we’re gonna let you go back there after everything that sick son of a bitch has done? You’re fuckin’ crazy”

“You don’t understand” You spoke softly, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.

“No you don’t understand! You wanna fuckin’ die huh? You got some sorta death wish?” Tommy was stepping closer to you, not with the intention of intimidating you but out of pure frustration with you.

“Tommy! Back the fuck off” Joel stepped forward now too, both brothers exchanging looks that told you this had been more than a one time conversation. You couldn’t help the tears that burned your eyes, begging to be released, your lip wobbling with every breath.

Tommy was an incredible friend to you, but he was the harsher one out of the two brothers when it came down to you. Joel was better at hiding his true feelings but Tommy, wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

“What if one day we ain’t there huh? what’s she gonna do? who’s she gonna run to? If she ain’t already dead by that point” his words were harsh and brought all your emotions to light.

“Stop it! please!” you burst into tears, chest tightening as your sobs began to wrack your body.

Joel was immediately at your side pulling you into his embrace tightly and running his hand through your hair, whispering sweet words.

“M’sorry, honey. But you ain’t leaving tonight and that’s final” Tommy spoke before disappearing into the hallway.

“He ain’t tryna be mean sweetheart” Joel whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I know” you spoke hiccuping through your words.

“He’s just worried about you, and so am I”

You pulled away from Joel’s embrace, wiping your eyes. Of course you knew it was wrong, Of course you knew you could get seriously hurt or end up dead. But if it was that straightforward you would’ve been gone a long time ago.

“Can you at least stay until i get some painkillers in ya’?” Joel asked, and it wasn’t a big ask at all… but to you it felt like a hefty question. But it wouldn’t hurt right? You could take the painkillers then head straight back home as if nothing happened.

You nodded and Joel gave a soft smile, and took your hand, leading you through the house and up the stairs.

“I keep everythin’ in my bathroom cabinet, jus’ better that way” he seemingly answered every question you had without you even having to ask.

He led you to sit on his bed as he went into the bathroom, rummaging for a few moments before returning with little white capsules in his hand, he reached into his night stand and grabbed an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing you both items.

He watched you carefully as you took the pills, swallowing them with water and taking a few more chugs of the water as you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. You handed the bottle back to him and he placed it back on his nightstand.

His room was so cozy, you had never been up here before. Shades of grey and black accented the room, lights dim and sheets soft, his bed big enough for 4 people never mind just him. You could tell this room probably wasn’t his idea as Joel wasn’t one to prioritise his own comfort. It was so cozy that your eyes began to droop, and your head began to sway.

“Lay down, babygirl” Joel instructed and even came to your side to aid you but you pushed him off.

“Nuh-uh I can’t, have to go home”

“Just lay down for 5 minutes, c’mon i don’t want you passing out” he insisted.

“M’kay, 5 minutes” He helped you lay down as you got comfortable on his plushy sheets, it was almost unusual how sleepy you were. You felt your eyes begin to shut against your will and felt your breathing begin to slow. You were falling asleep, but no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from overcoming you. Your body drifting into a deep slumber before Joel’s eyes.

If only you’d of seen the bottle of sleeping pills sat out on his bathroom counter.

When you woke, it was way darker outside, an ambient light flashing through, you squinted for a minute until you realised it was police lights. You searched your surroundings realising you were wearing a t-shirt and bottoms that did not belong to you, and you were also laying on joel’s pillows, the covers atop of you. You threw the covers off and began to stand up, your sleepiness still coursing through your body. how long did i sleep?

You padded towards the window, looking out and gasping at the sight of Rick being pushed into the back of a police car, his protests actively ignored by the officers, you began to start panicking but something caught your eye, or someone.

Tommy stood on the front porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the car drive down the street, the officer driving giving him a wave as they passed… they know each other?

“You’re awake” your body jolted as you spun round to face Joel, who stood in the middle of the room holding a mug of what looked and smelled like tea. He motioned for you to take the mug but you ignored him, eyeing him with a look of betrayal.

“I know you didn’t want this sweet girl but i-”

“Didn’t want this? Joel do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done? He’s gonna get out and he’s gonna come straight for me, do you understand that?” you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth and contemplating all of your options.

“Hey, hey, hey” Joel sat the mug down and walked over grabbing a hold of your shoulders and pulling you to him. “He ain’t gonna hurt you no more, understand”

You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure sureness in his eyes.

“He comes anywhere near ya i’ll kill m’ myself”… again, the sureness… but something else lurked in his irises, something dark.

“You’re not killing anyone Joel” you pulled out of his grip and began to walk away, searching for your lost clothes, rummaging through his wardrobe and under his bed.

“Where’s all my stuff?”

Joel sighed and walked over to you again.

“It’s in the laundry, why are you so desperate to leave? He’s not here anymore” You heard the frustration in his voice but why was he angry at you, it meant you could go home peacefully.

“Because it’s my home, Joel”

“This is your home” He said plainly, which in any other circumstance would’ve been sweet but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“That’s kind Joel but I really gotta-”

“You think now that i’ve got you i’m just gonna let you go?” He chuckled.

The air shifted as you looked into Joel’s eyes that seemed to have nothing but pure lust for you, he had been drinking.

But it wasn’t until your eyes caught the little orange pill bottle sat open on the counter that it finally clicked. And he noticed when it clicked. His eyes followed yours and he sighed at his mistake, before giving a slight scoff.

“Sorry, probably shoulda’ put that away before”

“Joel?” You grew more and more frightened as the seconds grew by, this wasn’t your Joel. This Joel had something dark and malicious about him.

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart” he came up and held your face in his hands…

“I’m gonna take care of you now”

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two i’d be happy to write one! any comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated thank you so much for reading.

love, mila🎀

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou fic #joel miller fic #dark joel miller #joel miller angst #the last of us x reader #no outbreak!joel miller #dark!joel miller #dark!fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader

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princessbrunette · 3 months

Note

rafe with a girlfriend that loves strays or animals in general and she's always petting them😭😭 he'll be so stern too "don't pet the cat sweetheart,it can have fleas" making her go all wide-eyed, because the kitty is alone and sad and they MUST bring it with them.

-🥞

₊˚🎧⊹♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖•ﻌ•༘⋆˚ ༘

you say fine, your boyfriend summoning you back over to him up ahead, phone pressed to his ear as he talks business on the go. he hangs up soon enough, stopping abruptly in his tracks to stare at you, astonished. “now why… is your bag moving? y’think i’m an idiot, huh?”

“i don’t know what you mean.” you barely whisper, wide eyed and tight lipped — clutching your tote bag to your side that apparently had a mind of its own. rafe says your name, as some kind of warning and you deflate, reaching inside and slowly revealing the scraggly stray kitten from a few minutes ago.

“baby.” he complains, disappointed.

“just— just let me take him to the emergency animal clinic. i can’t just leave him, he won’t survive!” you tear up, clutching the animal to your chest despite rafes previous warning of fleas and ticks. he tsks, running a frustrated hand over his jaw before holding it up in the air as if to cease you.

“alright, alright okay. just don’t fuckin’… cry on me, alright? we take it there and leave it. that things not comin’ into my home, you hear me?”

guess who ended up with a new kitten sharing the bed after a thorough de-fleaing?

₊˚🎧⊹♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖•ﻌ•༘⋆˚ ༘

#🥞 anon #rafe cameron prompt

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

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Hello may I please submit a request? Simon’s wife is a nice quiet woman in the streets but when her husband comes home she leashes out on him 😭😭 one day simons looking through all your dirty Polaroids he took one night and the boys catch him 😂

Baha I love this. I hope I did ok it’s only short!! This scenario screams Soap is a menace hahaahah. Not proof read. Also guys don’t look at others peoples SOs photos lmao this is purely fiction 😂

Mrs Simon Riley. A good quiet woman, a nurse, caring and understanding. She and Simon had met after a terrorist attack in London. Working in A&E the victims of the attack were brought there, she was busy dressing wounds, hanging IV lines and giving pain medication. That was until Task Force 141 burst through the doors carrying a half conscious Simon Riley.

Her manager assigned her to take care of him, blood loss from a stab wound. He was rushed into surgery to cauterise the blood vessel and stitch up the open skin. Their relationship was rocky at first, she felt uneasy he was rushed in above everyone else. The skull mask made her feel nervous, but his gentle grasp at her wrist alleviated some of this.

They began talking more and more during her shifts, he eagerly awaited her arrival every time. After he was discharged they remained in contact and the rest is history.

Four years later and Ghost is sat in his room at the barracks, missing his wife immensely. All the boys had met her, she often invited them round for dinner. They loved her, she was funny, kind and certainly kept Ghost in his place. But what they didn’t know was that she was a fiend in the bedroom. She certainly gave Ghost a run for his money.

Knowing he was going to be away for months she surprised him before he left. A small envelope filled with Polaroids of her, in deep purple underwear, stockings, and black patent stilettos. Others she was completely naked, angling the camera down her body two fingers teasing the edge of her cunt.

Oh he liked this surprise. On base he kept them on his person, no one else was gonna be privy to this. When he left base he kept them in a tin lock box he hid in a vent in his room. Just looking at her body in those photos drove him wild, all he wanted to do was to touch her. To feel her beneath him.

Lost in his memories of her he didn’t hear the first knock at the door. The second made him jump ‘Ghost! You in there buddy?’ Soaps thick accent pierced the door. Scrambling he tried to shove the pictures back in the box making one hell of a racket. ‘Comin Soap!’

Opening the door he was panting slightly. ‘Alright Lt?’ Soap asked confused. Nodding he hurried him out of the room but not before Soap noticed a picture on the floor. ‘What’s that on the floor Lt?’ His eyes widened in fear, he couldn’t let your pictures be seen by them. ‘Nothin that concerns you Johnny’ he warned.

Gaz rounded the corner and saw the look in Ghosts eyes, ‘Soap what you done now?’ He laughed. ‘Lt is hiding something from us me thinks.’ Gaz burst out laughing.

‘Leave him alone Soap, come in before Price has our arses.’ Soap backed off, surrendering.

As Ghost dropped his guard to close the door Soap burst through and dived for the photo. ‘STEAMIN JESUS LT!’ He shrieked laughing, ‘hidin’ this beauty from us I see.’ Gaz over come with curiosity fought off Ghost and joined Soap on the floor. ‘Fuck sir. She’s stunning’ he laughed. Luckily it was a photo of her in her lingerie, her breasts pushed together, her red lips smirking. ‘Gimme that if you know what’s good for you’ Ghost boomed.

Gaz and Soap exchanged a glance at each other like naughty school boys. ‘One more peep Lt?’ Soap laughed.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod mw22 #ghost x reader #fan fic smut #smut #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish #soap mctavish x reader #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #cod ghost

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harrysfolklore · 1 year

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please you write beautiful, so I have to ask you to make a imagine of harry and the reader where she and he write together sweet nothing like taylor and joe, thanks 🥺

sweet nothing

something lovey dovey for valentine’s day, i love you <3

MY PATREON | MASTERLIST

Your relationship was still a secret to the world.

They knew about you and Harry working together for his album, Harry's House, but they didn't know about the feelings that sparkled between the two of you, the shared kisses and intimate moments. They didn't know about your sweet nothings.

Sitting by the piano, with your writing journal and pen in hand, you reflected about you and Harry, about how last July you escaped from the busy life and the spotlights, and went away to your cottage in Wicklow, where you spend every second together, falling more and more for each other. You thought about how one night as you stargazed, he told you that your eyes reminded him of the tiny fireflies he used to watch growing up, and how you both promised that whenever life got overwhelming you'd always find home in each other.

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

The words came to your mind smoothly as you scribbled them down in your journal, during the last few months, you've found out that writing about Harry was the easiest thing in the world.

You were in love, and your songs reflected it.

"Busy there?" his soft voice made you turn you head towards the door, he was leaning against the frame with a relaxed smile and a fond look on his eyes, you couldn't help but melt at the sight, everything about him radiated comfort.

"Just writing songs," you said as you made room for him next to you on the piano's bench, he kissed the side of your face tenderly once he sat next to you before speaking again, "Love songs about me?" his cheeky remark made you let out a breathy laugh, he was right.

"What makes you think you're any good of a muse, Styles?" you decided to tease him, even though he had been your only muse for the last few months, just as you have been his.

"Baby, I'm a great muse! Stevie Nicks said it herself!" his words made you laugh again and you moved your hands to brush away a loose curl from his forehead, taking the opportunity to press your lips to his for a moment. You could never get enough of the other, and you cherished these moments when it was just you and him wrapped up in your little love bubble.

"Remember that poem I wrote on our way home from Wicklow?" you said after a few minutes of silence, with your head against his shoulder, "I do, you never showed it to me tho." his voice was soft and quiet, as if he didn't want to break the tender ambiance around you.

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "what a mind" This happens all the time

"It is about how I find safe heaven by your side whenever life gets hard" you let yourself be vulnerable, at the end of the day, Harry was the one who taught you that being vulnerable was part of being human.

And Harry could only look at you in pure love and adoration, he felt so lucky that he found someone so honest and real, someone he was willing to protect and take care of.

"You're my safe heaven too, baby. Nothing else matters if I get to come home to you and your sweet nothings" he confessed, every single one of his words touching every fiber of your heart.

You stayed like that for a while, your head against his shoulder and his hand softly caressing your back, scribbling lyrics on your journal and playing soft melodies in the piano. The world outside was full of pushing and shoving, but as long as you got each other you would be alright.

They said the end is comin' Everyone's up to somethin' I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shovin' You're in the kitchen hummin' All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

taglist: @cucciolafaerie e @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles story #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles headcanon #harrysfolklore #harry styles drabble #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fan fiction #1k #hsfolklore archive

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tastesousweet · 3 months

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (v) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n and matt don't have to like each other to continue this thing of theirs, right?

warnings : implications of sex, alcohol, mention of weed, ???

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR THE LOVE ON THIS SERIES!!! sorry if this part feels shorter than the usual !! things get cute in next few parts...

THIS IS PART FIVE GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST OK

"SHE'S sick again?" remi asks, scooting herself further into the booth.

"yeah, i think it's her sinuses or something. she seemed pretty bummed about staying home, i feel awful." andrea pouts while glancing at the menu.

"she's the only person to ever be sick this often in june," remi giggles.

"we should order something to-go for her then. maybe soup?" erin suggests.

"that sounds nice, i'll text her- hopefully she's awake."

౨ৎ

"i can't keep telling my friends i'm sick." you huff as you walk back into your room to find matt redressing.

"why not?" his voice is muffled through his shirt as he tugs it over his head, leaving his hair ruffled.

you lay yourself on your bed lazily, "because they're smart enough to stop believing me soon."

"and why can't they just mind their business?" he looks over to you before reaching down to adjust the white shoes on his feet.

you stretch an arm out to grab your phone from your side table, mumbling, "you must not have friends who worry for you.”

he shakes his head then sighs, “sure, my friends care about me, but they also know when to leave me the fuck alone.”

“right, and my friends know me well enough to know i’m never asking to be left alone.” your comment comes out with more sass than you intended but you know he doesn't understand (or care to understand) your friendships enough to comment on them. then again, you were the one who brought this up in the first place.

"mmm...right. forgot you're just a little insane," he tsks, looking into your mirror and adjusting his shirt some more.

"shut up, matt," you continue staring at your phone, though it's only open to your home screen because you're far more engaged in the conversation than anything your phone could give you. "okay actually, what should i dooo?" you whine.

"i sure as hell won't know?!" his face twists up as he turns to look at you, "you're a smart girl, i'm sure you can figure it out."

you roll your eyes, "'kay... well maybe i've picked up a hobby...like, i dont know, painting! and i just really enjoy painting all alone, 'cause it helps me...focus?"

matt sarcastically laughs through his words, “you’re weird as shit,” he throws your plush throw blanket (that fell on the floor when you pushed matt on your bed just an hour ago) at you. “alright, i’m headin’ out.”

you don’t even give him a second look, “bye.”

౨ৎ

a few cheers of “ayy” and “look who made it” echo out from across the small alley as matt tucks his keys in his front pocket.

he looks over to see chris excitedly pointing at him with an arm hooked on nathan’s neck and another close friend, elijah, sitting on an oversized couch with a smile.

matt chuckles under his breath and walks closer to them, taking in the rowdy and neoned atmosphere of this downtown bowling alley. “what’s good?” he greets his group of friends.

“what’s good with you?” nathan counters with a grin as he moves to dap up matt.

matt shrugs into the handshake as eli begins to speak and stand up, “yeah, where the fuck are you comin' from?”

“home. don’t worry about it,” matt defends as his tongue guides over his hidden smile with a loose shrug of a shoulder.

“nooo! just say it how it is, matt,” chris says through a bite of nachos, “you slept in late and forgot about boys night, big fucking deal. you’re here now!” he throws his hands up before letting them fall to his sides dramatically.

matt slowly nods his head in sarcastic agreement as he faces his friends, "he's right."

he almost wants to laugh at the fact that chris actually believed his fake-sleeping enough to let him off the hook for "forgetting" their group hangout.

cameron wanders over to the group after taking his turn bowling, “‘kay, nate it’s your turn.” he then quips his chin up with a sudden grin, "hey, matt! about time you showed."

"better late than never," he breathes before joking, "you know i had to let you guys get at least a round in before i got here to start dominating."

“the word choice is a bit insane,” nick exaggerates as he approaches with arms full of bottled water and soda cans, "how about you go get your fucking shoes before you make that kind of claim." he moves around matt to place drinks on the coffee table (decorated with various bowling ball and pin themed clutter that made nick way to happy when first seeing it).

elijah places a hand on matt's shoulder, "i'll come with you, matt."

౨ৎ

"sick baby, i'm home nowww!" andrea yells from the front door.

you mentally gather yourself to continue your deception. you add weight to your eyelids, purposely making them droop and make your voice extra scratchy, as if you'd only just awoken.

andrea's at your door quickly, only tapping it slightly open, not wanting to blind you with the harsh yellowed lighting of the hallway. "hi, you up?"

you tussle under your comforter and give a small nod, "mhm."

"do you think you're like, contagious? i have your soup here and really wanna tell you some shit about tonight." she smiles warmly.

"no you're fine. please come in, i've been all alone and bored as hell," you rub your eye softly for effect.

you feel pretty guilty about this whole thing but you aren't hiding anything tragic from her. and this "illness" hasn't ruined that many hangouts...only the one's that happen to fall on days matt texts you.

"i hate to see my favorite bitch down like this, this soup better make you feel better immediately." she sighs as she comes into your room, noisy plastic bag in hand.

"i know," you lift yourself to sit up against your headboard as she sits next to you, "think i should be all better soon. i can't miss another shift at the bakery."

you were never missing work for matt, but to cover your ass you did miss a day or two of work to show your friends just how "sick" you were. if you were sick enough to stay home from work you surely were sick enough to avoid a girls night or two. but you guess it technically does come down to matt...unfortunately.

"yeah, i'm sure mr. houffman will lose it of you call off again," she giggles, sifting through the bag for your soup and silverware.

౨ৎ

barely a week later and you're feeling the best you have in a while, with the guilt of pretending to be sick no longer following you.

it's the fourth of july so there was absolutely no way you'd be continuing that act. you weren't missing out on a holiday with as many parties as this one.

and when chris asked andrea to get the girls to come party hop for the night, you told her yes immediately.

you're currently sat atop a random kitchen counter as nick moves around to make a concoction cocktail for you. you lean back on your hands to watch as he uses a knife to slice a small lime as garnish. "wow you really have an eye for this shit, nick," you laugh at his focused stare (he tries to compensate for any drinks he's had so far, not wanting to slice a finger off).

"i guess i'm just a natural!" he exclaims as he places the lime on the rim of the plastic cups, "okay, one for you," you take it from him, "and one for me." he grins at you.

"cheers!" you motion your drink towards him and he echoes you before you both take large sips.

your eyes pinch before they grow wide, "...why's it actually...good?" you laugh.

"you bitch! you thought i'd give you a shitty drink?!" he giggles and goes for another sip of his own.

"it's not that-"

you're cut off by matt's voice, "alright, time to dip. everyone's sayin' this place is really weird."

you both look over at him with his mellow attitude and perfectly organized outfit (so that he'd 'have all the colors but not look like a walking american flag'). "what? this place has been a good time so far! right, nick?"

"suppperrrr fun. maybe it's a you problem, matt." he jokes.

"come on, chris is the one who sent me to get you two. you know i would've left you both a few houses back." he teases.

you slide off of the counter easily, "okaaay," you look into his eyes and pat his chest twice mumbling, "someone needs a smoke break," before walking off in search of the door.

"wait y/n!" nick grabs a few sealed jello shots from an ice bucket nearby before rushing after you.

though he doesn't catch up to you before matt does, grabbing your hand, "you don't even know where the fuck you're going."

you breathe out defeated, "i'm sure i could've figured it out. i don't need you bossing me around."

matt pouts with squinted eyes and his head tilted, "sure."

nick comes up to you, continuing to stuff the shots into his jort pockets, "do these shorts make my ass look fat?" he turns to show you his side profile (already giggling before the punchline of his joke lands) that showcases the multiple items shoved into his back pockets and protrude out in awkward shapes.

you and nick both fall into a laughing fit and matt only ghosts a smile at his brother's stupidity before tugging your hand towards an exit. "wait! here, hold this please," you hand your drink to matt and reach your hand out for nick's. when he takes your hand willingly you raise your conjoined hands with a smile, "aw, we're like a little train!"

nick adds to the joke by pretending to be a conductor, exclaiming all the cliche lines he knows to make you laugh.

matt finally pushes a front door open, the warm summer air finally surrounding you once more. the rest of the group chatter along the sidewalk across the street. "my friends!" nick yells.

the three of you make your way down the wooden stairs (that seem to be steeper when going down than they were to walk up), and once you're in the grass your hand drops from matts's as nick drags you across the street quickly to crash into your friends.

remi's face is annoyed and confused at first but changes immediately when she recognizes your face. she throws her arms around you for a hug, "y/n! you were found!" you laugh into her neck as she sways back and forth.

"okay guys i'm thinking we hit up the place that the end of this block, right there. they've got some crazy lights goin' on so it should be fun." chris points in the direction and looks to the group for opinions.

"yeah! let's do it!" nate encourages.

the group begin to walk down the sidewalk (and slightly into the grass) lined with miniature american flags and past the many houses full of people and decorated with fairy lights and expensive garland.

naturally, everyone gravitates into cliques due to the amount of small conversations happening at once.

"that's unreal!" erin adds while hanging her arm on your shoulder, as you both listen to remi's dramatic retelling of some guy's awful flirting with her.

"i''m so over these trash ass men," remi shakes her head.

"tell me about it," erin sighs, rolling her eyes.

just as you begin to add your own opinion, matt taps your shoulder. he seems to always find a way to interrupt you. you glance behind you and see him holding your cocktail from earlier up.

"oh thanks, i forgot you had that," erin leans off of you to give you space to turn around and grab it.

though her eyes linger on matt for a second too long causing him to send her a smile and raise his eyebrows slightly in awkward question.

you feel the tension bite at the air around you and in hopes of escaping it, you turn back around and prompt remi with a new topic to discuss.

only, now you miss when erin gives matt a second glance back- and this time she offers a gentle wave and smile to him, in truce.

౨ৎ

after a few more stops at parties (you all got a little greedy about the free drinks and food which brought three extra "one more"s before deciding to cut it off), you all head to a nearby park to end the night with a firework show.

it was surprisingly well organized, with blankets already laid out around the large grassy area so that anyone could sit and watch whether they'd planned to or not.

the night has started to get the slightest bit cooler which was much needed after such an eventful three hours, leaving everyone exhausted in their comfortable spots; chris resting his head against andrea's full thighs, you next to her with your legs sprawled and arms extended behind you, nick and nathan both sat with their legs crossed, admiring the bright fireworks despite nick's flinching every-so-often.

the blanket next to you hosts erin, remi, matt, and cameron. all laying out as they laugh and talk, which you assume comes from a combination of the edibles they'd all taken at one of the parties and remi's addictingly outgoing nature that can force anyone to want to talk to her.

the booming fireworks go on for another twenty minutes before dying down and leaving the crowd in the dark, smokey air.

as you adjust to standing and take out your phone to use as a makeshift flashlight, you read the most recent of your many notifcations:

MATT - 12:36 AM

you down to paint after this???

you bite at your freshly chapped bottom lip before looking over to matt, who's currently using his hands obnoxiously to explain something he's clearly passionate about to cameron.

you sliently sigh before replying:

YOU -12:47 AM

sure

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

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